


Bucket up, all for Luck

by ImperialMint



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint/pseuds/ImperialMint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin didn't really expect it to take five Knights, two old men, a woman and a horseshoe for his plan to work, but then again the extent of his plan had been more along the lines of an adamant 'I'm not in love with Prince Prat (except, really, I am)' than an actual plan. Written for goss for the merry_merthur fic exchange on lj</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucket up, all for Luck

**The Tale of Merlin (i): The First Day.**

Merlin watched as Arthur strode around his room, ripping the inky banners emblazoned with the red tree off of the wall. They had been put up in every room and it was the duty of the servants (well, the ones that were left and able to work) to tear them down for a public burning. Merlin had moved to the side of the door when they'd entered Arthur's rooms before he'd been stopped by a hand clasping his wrist.

"I'll do it," Arthur had muttered in a low voice and Merlin moved to the centre of the room, unsure what to do aside from watch.

Arthur was meticulous, grasping corners of the black material and pulling them down from where they were pinned onto stone walls. They ripped with a startlingly loud noise and Merlin couldn't help but wince each time Arthur started on a new banner.

Tatters of black still sat on the walls where the fabric had ripped in the nails, but Arthur seemed satisfied now as he bundled the black material up, shoving it against Merlin's chest. His head was tilted downwards and Merlin knew that he should say something.

No words came, though, and instead Arthur turned away, looking around his room for signs of Morgana's brief reign.

"I want everything in here stripped," Arthur said softly, directing Merlin's attention to the bed. "I have to return to council meetings again, will you make sure it's all burnt?"

Merlin answered affirmatively and Arthur turned, shoulders straightening as he drew himself up, preparing to descend back into the chaos that was Camelot's court. He'd been in meetings all day so far, determining emergency courses of action to those who needed it and preparing Camelot for repair. Not even after the great dragon's attack had such measures been put into place and it was a simple statement of how ruined Camelot was under Morgana's hands, in just a week.

Arthur had been gone for a while before Merlin moved into action, dumping the black cloth in his hands onto the table and frowning as violent red poked through the masses of black. Merlin's eyes moved to the hearth and he took the banners over, throwing them onto the cold logs, covering the fire dog, where he held his hand over them.

Magic swelled within him and he didn't need an incantation to bring forth the flames. The fabric caught easily, smoke billowing upwards as Merlin cleansed the room of Morgana's colours. He moved to the bedding next, stripping it and folding until it would fit the hearth, where he burnt it.

They didn't know who had slept in Arthur's chambers, though it was clear someone had. Maybe Morgause? Morgana would have undoubtedly kept her own chambers, or moved to the King's, depending. But Arthur's room… no, Merlin was sure he'd have been able to tell if Morgana had been in here.

He continued to burn anything that could be justifiably burnt, whether or not it took alight naturally. The hair comb Merlin found, for example, wouldn't have even smouldered unless a magical fire had been blazing, but Merlin made sure it was buried in charred ashes.

Merlin left a little later, loading the fire dog up with logs and burning some herbs on the fire to make the room smell less of burnt cloth, to fetch Arthur dinner. It was debatable whether he'd return to his chambers to take his meal, but Merlin wanted something to be there in case he did.

Even so, he chose foods that wouldn't perish if left untouched until later, loading a plate with bread and cheese, cured meats and a few sliced vegetables. Hardly a meal fit for a Prince, but Arthur had grown accustomed to eating rat as gourmet cuisine recently so Merlin was quite sure the gesture would be appreciated.

Arthur did return, breezing into his rooms and allowing the door to bang shut behind him. His eyes widened at Merlin's presence, but Merlin just smiled in return.

"I wanted to make sure you got something decent to eat," he said, gesturing to the food laid out on the table. Arthur sank into his chair (his favourite, though it was lacking in the usual fur coverings and Arthur looked a little sad in it now) and his hands darted to the meat first, nibbling an edge with his teeth before placing the whole slice in his mouth.

The sun was beginning to sink now and Merlin watched Arthur in the light of their new Camelot. He looked both like a King and a peasant, a man of great riches and one of great hunger, though Merlin knew this hunger to be one of change and prosperity.

Camelot was changing, whether Uther liked it or not. Arthur had been allowed his knights and he was now practically acting as Regent until Uther was 'well' again. That he'd ever be truly well again was difficult to say, but even with a full recovery, Camelot had changed beyond Uther's control and he would need to rely on Arthur more than he ever had before.

"Thank you," Arthur said between mouthfuls. "You can go now. I'm sure Gaius could use the help and I'll probably be in meetings until tomorrow or something ridiculous."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and Merlin swallowed, ignoring the lazy sunlight through the window and definitely ignoring the way it made Arthur look more than human.

"Sleep well," Merlin replied, instead of staying to watch Arthur in the dying sun. Arthur was right – Gaius needed his help and he still had things to do before the dawn broke.

Gaius was finishing their supper when Merlin arrived and said dinner would be served in a few minutes. Merlin nodded, walking to his room with unease as a thought crept into his mind.

He liked Arthur, yes. They were friends, of course. Merlin would lay his life down for Arthur's, without a doubt. They'd been in each other's company for years now so what the hell was that back in Arthur's chambers?

Arthur had been sitting down, eating. There had been sunlight… nothing about that was particularly spectacular and yet something inside of Merlin was churning, bubbling up merrily when it had no business to bubble up anything.

The traitorous little thought that had crept up kept whispering, but Merlin tried to ignore it. No, rather, he forced himself to ignore it, smothered the feeling and thought in a massive bundle of ignore and locked it away forever.

It didn't stop him grabbing a piece of parchment from the side of his desk though, nor stopped him from dipping a quill into ink and titling the page 'The Plan'. Ignore, ignore, ignore was the word he tried to write out, but his hand hovered too long and, instead, different words were formed.

"I'm not in love with Prince Prat," Merlin muttered as he blew on the page, trying to dry the ink before the page curled over. He'd have to place it under a heavy book to straighten it out; scrolled paper became a nuisance after the novelty of the springy-ness wore off.

"Brilliant," Merlin said, smiling slightly. It was true; he wasn't in love. Couldn't be. A ridiculous thought…

Writing it down was supposed to help. Nothing could come of it (it wasn't true and plus Arthur had Gwen), but writing it down should get rid of the little voice.

Ignoring was harder when it turned to a little voice screaming the word denial.

Merlin closed his eyes for a brief moment, sinking into his pillows and ignoring Gaius' call for food. The main question, aside from the whole 'what-the-hell-was-he-going-to-do-now' issue and the fact that his plan only had one stage so far was… when had it all started?

 **The Tale of Sir Percival (i): The First Night.**  
For Percival, it began on a stone floor of an old castle, in the middle of a war. He'd barely begun to drift off into sleep when he'd heard Lancelot speaking and, instantly, had woken. Over the past few months since they'd known each other, they'd become attuned to each other's voices. It was a mandatory requirement when there were only two of you sleeping in bandit infested forests that you wake at the mere whisper of the others' voice, and the habit hadn't died down after being around others.

He could only just hear the strains of conversation, but Lancelot spoke with such strength behind his words that even Percival found himself agreeing, not even knowing what he was agreeing to other than Merlin was far braver than them all and deserved much more than he'd been dealt.

The air shifted and Percival rolled over, moving an arm to cover his ear. Whatever Lancelot was talking about, he had no right to listen. He respected Lancelot greatly and he wouldn't break that trust by eavesdropping.

Like any normal man, Percival had his suspicions. After the letter came, in hurried scrawl, Lancelot had explained his bond to Merlin, saying that they had saved each other a few times before and he owed Merlin a great deal. There was something hidden behind Lancelot's words, but Percival hadn't said anything. He wasn't there to judge Lancelot's relationships (if he was correct in his suspicion that is), and he'd never even met Merlin.

It had, however, made him curious as to who this Merlin was that he could captivate such a man as Lancelot and when word that Camelot needed them bled through Merlin's letter, Percival had been ready to defend King and country, as well as get a sneak peek on someone with a vast amount of influence.

Well, this was until the ride to collect Guinevere. The red cape of the Knights of Camelot twisted in the wind currents as they trotted to the underground tunnel system, preparing to meet Gwen. She was waiting for them and ran out, barely waiting for Elyan to dismount before throwing her arms around his shoulders, hugging the life from him.

Lancelot had been the next person and Percival saw the way his eyes were guarded, as if facing a group of skilled thieves rather than a maidservant. Gwen hugged him, but the way Lancelot held her – loosely, as if she was made of glass – convinced Percival his earlier thoughts were wrong with regards to Lancelot's feelings about Merlin.

It led him to wonder about the exact dynamics of Camelot's relationships. The Prince clearly loved Guinevere if the kiss as they arrived back in the courtyard was any indicator, and it was true that Gwen loved him too… but as they moved back to the castle, Arthur drew into conversation with Merlin and, regretfully he'd said, had to leave to attend meetings of some form or another.

Percival had been left then, to go back to his rooms and get a decent sleep for the first time in… well, the fact that he couldn't put a date on the last time he'd felt fully comfortable asleep spoke louder than any number he could think of. It may be the afternoon, but Arthur had told them their one task until he called them again was to go get Gwen and then rest.

And, really, rest sounded good right about now.

Percival woke a few hours later, the ache in his stomach unable to ignore any longer. It was dark outside and while dinner had most likely been served hours ago, castle kitchens were always humming with life. There would surely be at least a bit of bread for him to eat, just to stave off the hunger until morning anyway.

It was easy to get lost in a big building such as Camelot's castle and Percival had hoped that he'd be able to flag someone down to direct him. Unfortunately his hopes were extinguished as it seemed everyone had drifted away from him and the best Percival could do was to wander around, looking for any signs of hustle and bustle that noted kitchen life.

He didn't find it, though, and instead bumped into Merlin. The other man frowned and took a step back, face breaking into a grin when he noticed who he had stumbled into.

"Percival! Or should I say, Sir Percival!" He gave a snort of laughter, bending into a mock bow and looking up conspiratorially, "That's more respect than Arthur gets you know."

There was something about Merlin's disposition that was infectious, and Percival found himself smiling in return. He'd been loyal to Arthur and the others through what Lancelot had told him at first, but it was easy to see why Lancelot had praised them so. Percival had grown proud to say his allegiance lay with Prince Arthur, and he was oddly happy to say it lay with Merlin too.

"So, what brings you to this gloomy corner of Camelot? I can't imagine it's for the sights!" Merlin smiled again, shrugging his shoulders.

Percival was, generally, a man of little words. It wasn't that he didn't like to talk, but he preferred to observe things first, especially in new places. He took in Merlin in a single glance, noting he held something in his hand, sword-like in shape.

"I just woke up," he replied, meeting Merlin's eyes with a small smile of his own. "I can't find the kitchens though and no one seems to be around to help."

Merlin nodded with a roll of his eyes. "This is the time of night when the servants that are supposed to be on duty skive off to do their own things. You won't get any help unless it's straight from the kitchen itself."

Percival nodded. It was clear that Merlin, though he was a trusted man to Arthur, was no different from other servants and was clearly 'skiving' off for his own thing, whatever that was. Percival wasn't there to ask questions, but it didn't stop him being further intrigued by the man before him.

"As luck would have it, you're almost there. All you need to do is take that corridor there until you reach the first left turning. Then go straight across the cross section and it's the… third right. Once you're there, get one of the staff to take you back to your rooms." Merlin shifted on his feet and stepped back a little, clearly signalling their meeting was over for now.

"Thank you," Percival said, following the first part of Merlin's directions and starting off down the corridor.

"It's nothing, really. I remember when I came here, the whole place is like a labyrinth until you get used to it. If you need a tour or anything, just come ask. I'll either be with Gaius in the physician's quarters or with Arthur, but you can always just ask someone and the word will spread." Merlin turned, making for the opposite way to Percival.

"I'd… appreciate it if you didn't tell Arthur I'd slacked off of my chores and took to polishing his sword in the night." Merlin gave Percival a small smile and the Knight nodded, smiling as Merlin left.

It was a badly concealed lie, but there was no reason for Percival to call Merlin out on it unless someone ended up dead when the sun was up. Plus, there was something strangely intriguing about Merlin and, for the first time in his life, Percival wanted nothing more than to make friends with this man.

 **The Tale of Sir Lancelot (i): The Second Day.**

In reality, the whole thing probably started for Lancelot when he lied about Merlin's whereabouts, but he was probably part of it all since he'd saved Merlin from the griffin. And then Merlin had saved him. And then the circle of saving had begun and it was probably too complicated to figure out if anyone actually owed the other, but Merlin had knocked the Cup of Life over so Lancelot figured he could offer his help up for a friend in a predicament.

The lie had begun when he'd been walking to check his horse. It was a fine horse, but he'd thrown a shoe the day before when they'd gone to collect Gwen and he wanted to check that the blacksmith had reshod him.

Minding his own business, Lancelot had walked towards one of the castle's exits, to see Merlin by the archway that led outside and Arthur standing between them. He wondered if he should be here, not that he hadn't been witness to Arthur and Merlin's infamous arguments before, but this seemed a little different somehow.

Maybe it was because they had just survived an immortal army, maybe it was because they had all shared the same living space for a while, but Lancelot could see this wasn't like their usual arguments. Even then, their banter shone through, but there was no light hearted-ness in Arthur's words as he spoke to Merlin.

"When I come out of council to decide the fate of Camelot, perhaps you might think it's too much to ask for an attending servant. Fine, but when I ask you where you have been, you have the gall to lie to me." Arthur didn't raise his voice, but each word carried easily to Lancelot as he moved closer.

Not even Merlin had noticed him, though he was windswept and had clearly been out of the town for a while… the night if the rings under his eyes were anything to go by.

"Sire?" Lancelot interrupted softly, eyes darting between the pair of men. "My horse threw a shoe yesterday. I asked Merlin if he could see if he could find it… I thought it might bring luck after all we've been through. I realise now I should have asked, but we assumed you'd be busy all day."

The lie slipped easily and Merlin nodded along, shifting his weight slightly.

"I should have left a note," Merlin said, ducking his head slightly, the first true subservience Lancelot had ever seen of the warlock. "But I wanted to be back in time for lunch." He chuckled weakly, "I was still late though."

Arthur was silent before he looked at Lancelot, looking into his eyes deeply and letting out a huff of breath. It was clear he wanted to say much more, but the effort he'd probably spent in council all day and the lingering exhaustion from their campaign still hung heavy about them. Without a word, Arthur turned on his heel and walked away, presumably heading to his rooms.

"Thank you," Merlin said, ushering to Lancelot's side quickly. Up close, he looked even more tired than he had before, his shoulders drooping and eyes half closed. What on earth had he been doing?

"Is this something that I shouldn't really ask about?" Lancelot wiggled his fingers a little and Merlin – thankfully – smiled a little. It was a relief to see that smile and it relaxed Lancelot a little.

"Sort of. More to do with the sword I used." Lancelot remembered that sword and Merlin's cryptic 'forged-in-dragon's-breath' answer. It was an amazing sword, pity that he couldn't see it again, but Merlin probably had a reason for what he'd done.

"So still something that Arthur shouldn't know about then?" Merlin nodded to Lancelot's question and that was that. There was no need to pry into Merlin's secrets, though he knew them better than most, and if it was important, Merlin would tell him.

"How are you settling in?" Merlin asked conversationally as Lancelot directed them back to the main castle. He could check on his horse another time, but he wanted to see Merlin back to Gaius and make sure the physician put his ward to bed.

"Strangely well. I'm not sure if it's because no one's really taken notice to Camelot's new knights or if it's because I actually fit in for once…" Lancelot smiled as Merlin bumped their shoulders. This was familiar, it was easy and comforting. Despite all they'd been through and who they'd become (Sir Lancelot and Merlin, the sorcerer who defeated an immortal army. Who would have thought!), they were still old friends, still the two people who had fought over a chair one morning, just because they could and it had been fun.

"You belong," Merlin said softly, smiling as he looked over Lancelot. A tingle of warmth spread through Lancelot and he nodded back at Merlin.

"You do too, even more than any of us." His voice was little more than a whisper and Merlin already knew what he thought regarding Arthur and his position, but he received a nod in return anyway.

"I don't think anyone but Gaius will say this, but thank you Merlin. You saved all of us and you don't even want to set anyone right about what happened. You didn't believe me when I said you were the bravest man I knew, but I think you'll be the bravest man I'll ever know." They'd reached Gaius' quarters and Merlin laid a hand on the door.

"So thank you. I may be Arthur's knight now, but I'm as much your man as I am his. And if you need me for another adventure…" Lancelot smiled and Merlin shook his head, the return smile clear on his lips.

"Next time it'll be a safe adventure, like rescuing a cat from a tree or something. Nice and tame without evil and swords." Merlin opened the door a little.

"I'm not sure about that one," Lancelot said, "I hear some cats have an agenda against you."

Merlin laughed, waving a hand as the door banged shut behind him.

"That was one time and I didn't know the cat was there before I sat on it. Gossips should get their facts right before they go spreading rumours!" Merlin called out and Lancelot smiled to an empty corridor.

Even knowing about the magic, there was something about Merlin that you couldn't pin down. Lancelot didn't know of many people who would pass up the slightest hint of glory, and all the tasks that Merlin had completed (and Lancelot was certain he hardly knew of them all) should, by all means, make Merlin one of the most skilled men in the kingdom.

But Merlin wasn't a man who sought such things, and it was why Lancelot vowed to do everything in his power to keep his friend happy and safe. Merlin had saved them all, multiple times, but wanted for nothing.

If there was anything Lancelot could do, he would. (Though later he'd come to regret those words when he was covered in mud and standing on the edge of a dirt path while Merlin foraged through the undergrowth).

 **The Tale of Sir Elyan (i): The Second Night.**

Unlike the others, Elyan was technically drawn into it all through Gwen. Their relationship had been slightly strained over the years and Elyan knew Gwen would never completely forgive him for not being there when their father had been on trial, but she still loved and cared for him.

He also knew of Gwen and Arthur's budding relationship. He'd seen the way they looked at each other back in the castle of Fyrien, and how a Prince was willing to risk more than his life for that of a serving girl and her brother. It was astounding, and even seeing them kissing in the courtyard the previous day had been a shock.

Princes didn't marry servants. That was what everyone had been told, that they had all grown up knowing. It was a dream of the serving class to discover you were a bastard prince or princess, and that your lineage had been discovered, and you were called to court to take the rightful place on the throne… but that was all it was; a dream.

Except Guinevere had shattered all illusions of this and seemed as though she was free to pursue her relationship, without the accusations of sorcery or enchantments now. Elyan was pleased for her, truly he was as if anyone deserved someone to love it was Gwen.

So when Gwen had returned to their house with a thoughtful look on her face, Elyan couldn't help but be curious. She wasn't smiling as she usually was when she'd run into Arthur on her way home (Elyan wasn't blind, he knew how his sister looked when she'd seen the Prince), and he wondered if the King had forbidden their relationship.

"I don't know what to do," Gwen said a few moments later, sitting down at the table. Elyan moved from the sword he was sharpening to sit opposite his sister, waiting for her to continue. While he hadn't been a model sibling in the past, he did love his family. Now that Gwen was all he had left, he wanted to protect her and so her happiness was paramount.

"I could see him looking at me," Gwen began, her fingers splayed out on the table in front of her. They traced over patterns in the wood while Elyan waited patiently for her to continue. "Just… looking at me with that expression," she said, frowning.

Elyan wondered why it was such a big deal. Surely Arthur had looked at her before?

"But every time I looked back he refused to meet my gaze." Gwen's head snapped up to look her brother in the eye. "It's not as if I was the one to leave was it? He's the one who chose to leave me and swan off to who knows where. If he cared he would have-"

Gwen broke off, a pained expression on her face and Elyan got the message that they weren't quite on the same page. This wasn't about Arthur after all.

"I've tried," Gwen continued, her voice little more than a whisper. Elyan moved to her side, wrapping her into a hug and holding her while she tried to think everything through.

Gwen had been through a lot too, and perhaps Arthur was the only one who could understand what the Lady Morgana's betrayal meant to her. They'd been close friends, Gwen had told him, and now that Morgana had betrayed them all… who could Gwen turn to with her problems?

"I've tried so hard to love him. And I do, I really do love him." Gwen's voice lost the anguished edge, turning instead into one of determination. When she set her mind to things, Gwen never backed down. "But if there was ever a choice, I'd choose Lancelot."

Elyan realised this must have been torturing her for some time. She loved two men, but she'd committed her heart to one and the rest of herself to another. By all means she had pledged to be Arthur's lover, but even the Prince of Camelot couldn't take her heart. She'd given it willingly to another man, one who apparently gave his in return.

"You need to talk to him," Elyan said, pulling away from their embrace. He didn't know what else to do, except tell Gwen that she needed to sort this out. While it was a horrible time, Arthur needed to know that Gwen couldn't be his woman. If they continued, it would only bring heartache and disaster.

"How about I talk to Merlin, find out when Arthur's free, and then make sure that Merlin knows to be around afterwards." Elyan didn't want to add 'in case something bad happens', but while he trusted his Prince, this was his sister and he felt better knowing that someone else could be on hand. As Merlin was the only person known who could diffuse Arthur with ease, it seemed the right thing that he be there too.

This, of course, led Elyan to go up to the citadel in the darkness of the evening, nodding to passing guards as the red, dragon-emblazoned cape gave him full authority to be out at this time of night. The novelty of being able to wander around and never be questioned on authority still hadn't worn off and by the time he reached Gaius' quarters, Elyan couldn't help the smile on his cheeks.

"Sorry to disturb you Gaius," Elyan said as the physician opened his door. He was still in daytime robes, but even so, he felt bad for disturbing Gaius at this time. "I was wondering if I could have a word with Merlin?"

Gaius stepped back and allowed Elyan through the threshold.

"Merlin! You have a visitor," he bellowed. There was a loud bang before the door at the back opened and Merlin peeked out, bleary eyed and hair wild. It looked as if he'd just woken up, but he smiled and gestured for Elyan to come in.

The disarray of the room showed that Merlin had indeed been sleeping, and so Elyan took a seat over at the table rather than on the bed. He pushed a few vials and herb bundles out of the way, resisting the urge to pick a few flowers from the sprigs of lavender and smell them, before resting his arms on the table.

"I was wondering if you could possibly help me."

Merlin looked surprised and ran a hand through his hair. "Help you? I'd love to, though I'm not sure how exactly."

"It's about Guinevere," Elyan said and noticed the way Merlin snapped to full attention. Maybe Gwen wasn't as alone as she'd though' Merlin certainly looked as though he cared for her.

"Is she okay?" Merlin said hurriedly and Elyan smiled, nodding briskly.

"She's going to talk to Arthur tomorrow." Apparently Merlin understood from those vague words as his face drew sombre and he looked down, picking at the fabric of his sheets.

"She's chosen Lancelot, hasn't she?" His voice was subdued and Elyan realised he didn't like it.

"Yes. I wondered if you could possibly be around when she tells him… it's not that I don't trust him but-"

"Gwen's your sister and you just want to protect her." Merlin flashed a brief smile. "I can be there, but it's not going to be pretty." Merlin's face returned to the grim look it was before, but he met Elyan's eyes.

"I'm sorry," the knight said, wholly meaning it. "I owe you for this okay?" Merlin tried to shake him off, but Elyan wouldn't have any of it. "No, I do. And thank you, so if you ever need me for anything, all you need to do is call. You're a great man Merlin and I'm proud to call you a friend."

Elyan left shortly after, but the image of Merlin's surprised face stuck with him long after. It was clear that he hardly received any praise for the things he did; to be so shocked when someone said they were proud to be friends was a rare commodity.

For some reason Elyan felt that he owed a great deal more to Merlin than just for watching over Gwen and he swore he'd repay him. Not many people would willingly face Arthur's anger unless they were brave or stupid, and to think Merlin as the latter was beginning to seem an impossible feat.

And perhaps it was his determination to repay Merlin for unknown things that dragged Elyan fully into this, thinking about it.

 **The Tale of Sir Leon (i): The Third Day.**

It began for Sir Leon when he made the mistake of peeking through the crack of the door, arm touching Merlin's as they tried to get a glimpse of what was happening inside.

Leon had been attending yet another meeting. The sheer density of the council was beginning to ebb as the kingdom was under control once more, but the knights of Camelot needed to be briefed on what to do and the job had fallen to Leon as Arthur had requested a few hours of rest. Everyone had been more than willing to give the Prince his rest as he'd been in back to back meetings for hours (possibly days even), and they could manage without him.

Still, Leon needed to tell Arthur of what had happened and was walking towards Arthur's rooms when he saw Merlin outside the door. It wasn't uncommon for Merlin to be up here – he was still Arthur's manservant after all – but he was pressed to the wooden door, jerking his head from side to side and moving about, as if trying to find something.

"Um… Merlin?" He asked hesitantly, unsure what to make of the scene before him.

It wasn't that he'd never got on with Merlin before, but he'd never spent that much time with him. They'd spent time together in the castle a few days back, but it had been overshadowed by plans of attack and their impending and (then) very likely deaths. He knew that Merlin got on well with almost everyone, especially Arthur, and that he was good for the Prince, but he still didn't know how to react to the man when he was… well… doing something strange.

"Come here!" Merlin whispered, waving a hand furiously. Leon looked over his shoulder to check that Merlin did actually mean him before moving forwards, until he was standing close to Merlin.

"You won't get a good look over there, come closer, here," Leon was suddenly pulled forward, head pushed closer to the crack in the door as Merlin shuffled over.

"Can you see anything? Arthur's been in there with Gwen for a while now and I'm getting a bit worried." Merlin was moving around again, trying to see people who couldn't be seen.

"I don't think it's something you should be looking at," Leon admonished, trying to step away from the door. Really, he knew Merlin had grown up in a small village, but did he have to be so uncouth about the Prince's relationships?

"Don't be disgusting, it's nothing like that," Merlin said in reply, offhandedly dismissing Leon's words. He was still trying to look into the room, but then sighed and straightened up, apparently giving up.

"Gwen's breaking his heart in there and I'm assigned to make sure he doesn't go around throwing things and injuring himself."

Merlin sounded so calm about it all that Leon frowned, looking Merlin up and down to make sure it was really him. He hadn't even thought that there was cause for Gwen to be breaking Arthur's heart, but apparently there was and Merlin seemed perfectly pleased with it all.

"Why-"

Merlin jumped in before he could carry on. "She loves Lancelot and I think she's only fully realised that now. I mean… it's awful that Arthur's going to be hurt but it's better that they do all this now than later, rather than ending up hating each other."

Leon supposed that it was logical, but it didn't stop him from turning down the corners of his mouth and frowning. Guinevere – though she had done a lot for them all – was still a peasant. What right did she have to turn the Crown Prince away?

"Lancelot doesn't know. He left so that she'd never have to choose, but he forgot that she'd decide anyway." Merlin's voice grew softer as he leant into the door again, narrowing his eyes.

Suddenly he cursed under his breath, springing away from the door and manhandling Leon down the corridor a little. So such a skinny pole, Merlin was surprisingly strong and they were a few paces away from the door by the time it flew open.

"I really am you know," Gwen said as she appeared at the door, a light smile on her lips as she looked back into the room. "And you deserve better than me. You know that, you're just too stubborn."

Merlin wheeled round, eyes wide as he whispered, "Pretend to be talking to me," to Leon, just as Gwen looked towards them.

"Why? Oh right. Um, I need to speak to Arthur about the… new training regimes." Leon coughed, desperately trying not to look towards the open door.

"Ah, of course!" Merlin's smile was one a simpleton would wear as he looked to Leon. "Those training regimes. How could I forget!"

Gwen came up beside them at that moment, smiling tightly at their attempts to negate the fact they'd been trying to sneak a peek into a private conversation.

"Thanks Merlin," Gwen whispered, patting him on the arm. She curtsied to Leon before walking away, leaving a knight and a manservant to sneak towards the door.

"Do you think we should…" Leon began, eyes darting from Merlin to the open door. Merlin looked back, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"I'll go first shall I?" he said, drawing himself up and darting away from Leon and into the room.

"I'm impressed that there's less broken things," Leon heard Merlin say, before the clang of metal signalled that something (probably a goblet) had been thrown in Merlin's direction.

Leon had to admit that Merlin was brave. And very noble, for the fact he'd offered to go in and take the brunt of the anger, just so Leon could evade it...

"If you'll stop," another clang, "Throwing things, I'd like to inform you that Sir Leon is just outside and, while I understand you like throwing things at me, perhaps you could curb the hobby for a moment so he could go back to his duties?"

If anyone else had ordered Arthur around like that, they'd probably be run through by his sword. Except Merlin was the one person who'd ever managed to get under Arthur's skin and stay there, just next to his heart. They irritated each other, that much was in plain sight, but Arthur was willing to change for Merlin, and Merlin for him.

They were far more complex than any master and servant Leon had ever met, and he knew the relationship was so much more than that. They were friends, but even so that term seemed so weak for what the pair shared.

"You can come in. He'll throw things at me after, but you're in the clear." Merlin's head poked around the door, smile easy on his mouth but eyes guarded. Leon realised that he had to make this quick so Arthur could face whatever he had to and so strode into the room.

He gave a brief report and relayed instructions that council was to meet under Uther in a few hours, before he took his cloak in hand and bowed, leaving the room. Merlin gave him a small, grateful smile as he took leave, the door locking shut behind him.

It was Merlin's fault, really, that he pressed his eye to the keyhole. He just wanted to check that Arthur was alright with Merlin, when it occurred to him that Arthur seemed to be taking it extremely well. Whatever Gwen had said (or rather, however she had said it) seemed to be less of a heart break than a realisation they had both known and ignored.

He'd expected Gwen to be less upset about leaving Arthur as she was the one the decision lay with, but he'd expected Arthur to be angry, upset even. Instead, he was silent, head downcast as Merlin stood uncertainly, hands crossed over his chest.

There wasn't a heart broken man in the room and Leon looked at the two of them, so at ease it was almost enviable how comfortable they were with each other. Leon drew himself up and started down the corridor, nodding to himself as pieces fitted together snugly, realisations dawning as he'd recognised the look on Merlin's face as he'd come away from the keyhole.

He decided, in that moment, that he'd help Merlin in whatever endeavour he embarked on. Leon had a feeling that Merlin's plans would be a little sketchy and what better way to conquer a Prince's heart than to use the mind of a man who'd known him for a long time.

Because it was clear in the look he'd see on Merlin's face… and with Arthur not falling apart at the seams as he was supposed to, Leon suspected Gwen had realised the same thing and made Arthur realise it too.

It would be a lot of work and Leon would need help, but luckily he had four new knights to break in. This would prove a brilliant exercise in stealth and loyalty.

And, much later, if Merlin wanted to think of it as his own plan, then they'd all let him, darting secret smiles to each other.

 **The Tale of Sir Gwaine (i): The Third Night.**

With futile resistance, Gwaine decided to help when he saw Merlin walking alone through the courtyard. It wasn't that he hadn't been informed of the supposed plan, but he'd thought it completely ridiculous and refused to help when Leon had mentioned it, offhandedly, earlier that evening.

"How would you like to be part of the plan to make Merlin happy?" Leon had asked, passing over a flagon of mead and looking around the newest members of the Knights of Camelot.

"I never pinned you down for the type Sir Leon!" Gwaine said, clapping the man on the back and raising his eyebrows. Leon frowned at Gwaine's grin.

"I don't quite follow," he said, looking at the others to see if they got Gwaine's meaning.

"You know. The type of man who likes to indulge himself in a bit of group-"

"I'm not," Leon grated out and Gwaine's grin widened. "What I meant was, I think we should help set Merlin up with someone… a particular someone."

Silence greeted Leon's words as the others looked at each other.

"Um…" Percival said, choosing to take a deep gulp of his drink rather than continuing his trail of though. The idea was mirrored around the table as none of the knights wanted to play matchmakers of all things.

"It's a stealth exercise," Leon insisted and Gwaine snorted into his drink.

"A stealth exercise? Setting Merlin up on a date? Does the poor bloke even know of your plans?" Leon's deadpanned look and silence was all Gwaine needed.

"Well I'm out. Merlin's not pining over anyone and he certainly doesn't need cheering up. He's just Merlin, a bit tired like the rest of us, but certainly not some willowy maiden who needs setting up." Gwaine looked around to see if anyone shared his sentiments and was horrified by the reception he received.

"It would be nice to do something for him," Elyan said.

"If nothing it'll let us get to know him better," Percival said.

"I suppose it won't harm him, and he might get a decent night out of it even if he's not after anyone after all," Lancelot said.

Gwaine felt betrayed. "You're not supposed to agree with him!" he cried, outraged at the turn of conversation. Where were the men he'd been knighted with? These were mere imposters with foolishly romantic ideas in their heads.

Merlin didn't need anyone. He was fine without their meddling and Gwaine wouldn't stoop so low as to interfere in his friend's life unwanted.

Gwaine walked back from the tavern, completely sober for once which was an odd feeling, but more aware of everything around him. Even though he'd said he'd never come back under Uther's rule, here he was, and a knight to boot. It was technically his title by blood, but only Merlin knew that particular detail.

It was true that Merlin was a friend, one of the closest he'd ever had, but Gwaine couldn't lower himself to meddle with Merlin's private affairs. If the man was in love as Leon claimed he was, then he could deal with it himself. He didn't need a group of knights chivvying him along at the side lines.

At least, that was what Gwaine thought until he saw Merlin in the darkness, walking across the courtyard towards him with an odd dip to his shoulders and a blank look on his face. There was an air of sadness surrounding him that hadn't been there before and Gwaine wondered if Merlin had confessed his feelings to the imaginary-love of his and been rejected.

"Merlin?" he asked quietly and the other man looked up, smiling instantly.

"Gwaine! I thought you were out with the others." Gwaine shook his head, falling into stride next to Merlin.

"Called it an early night. Have to be up early tomorrow for our first day of proper training. Arthur's overseeing us, as you probably know already." Gwaine looked over, his smile slipping as he saw the frown on Merlin's brow.

"Oh, tomorrow is it? Arthur didn't say, thank you."

Maybe Leon's theory wasn't so far-fetched as he'd originally thought then. Gwaine decided he didn't like this Merlin, not one bit.

"Is something wrong?" Gwaine asked, the words strange on his tongue. He'd never really been one to offer comfort, but he was the only one aside from Arthur and Gaius who Merlin could go to at the moment (the others still in the tavern), and Gwaine was right here.

Merlin shook his head, "I'm fine."

A cold, tingly feeling overcame Gwaine and he raised his eyebrows, taking a slight step away from Merlin.

"You don't… I mean… you're not…?" He swallowed and Merlin looked at him as if he were a bit touched in the head. "You're not in love with me, right?"

The howl of laughter that came from Merlin was enough to set Gwaine off too and they drew filthy looks from passing servants as tears of laughter streamed down their cheeks. To make matters worse, each time they seemed to be controlling their laughter, they caught each other's eye and the laughter set off again.

"Of course I'm not! Where did you get that idea from?" Merlin gasped as the laughter was wrestled under control.

Gwaine shrugged, not wanting to betray Leon and his plan. Not that there was anything wrong with Merlin being in love with him, but he needed to know these things before he agreed to anything Leon wanted them to do.

"You know ideas, they just creep in and you're unable to stop them!" Gwaine chuckled uneasily, but there wasn't any responding laughter from Merlin.

"Ignore them all you want but they just won't back down," he muttered and, well perhaps Leon was right after all.

Merlin said goodnight a little later, moving to where he lived, and Gwaine moved to the opposite part of the castle. His chambers were sparse, but warm and the bed comfortable at least. It was onto the bed that he flopped, staring up at the canopy in the darkness and thinking about Merlin.

He refused to believe Merlin was pining over someone, but it was clear that he wasn't happy. Well, that was true of almost everyone since Morgana had been overthrown, but it was more a case of there was a problem with Merlin.

Gwaine bolted upright, moving out of the castle and straight back to the tavern. The knights were still there, gathered at a table, and Gwaine took his seat again as if he'd been merely relieving himself rather than returned to his rooms.

"I'm in," he said, grinning at the others and raising the drink pushed in front of him as a toast.

 **The Tale of Gaius: The Fourth Day.**

There was a delicate balance that existed between all things on the earth, and the craft of a physician was perhaps where this was most clear. There were potions for healing and potions for harming, but the body too could react in strange ways. Some people could easily take a tincture of thistle and willow bark with no ill effects and yet others would break out into a rash. The tincture was the same each time, just the individual it was given to that was different.

It was a rare day that Gaius had no scheduled appointments in the morning and he was taking the time to continue research, primarily focusing on balances, wondering if an imbalance of thistle to the bark could be causing the problems. Maybe if he sometimes used different measurements, however slight, the effectiveness of the tincture was altered?

It was just as he tipped the scales, weighing out the crushed thistle with a delicate spoon that Merlin came in, throwing the door open and causing Gaius to jump, hand knocking against the scales.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed, turning around in his seat to watch his charge walk across the room, blank expression on his face.

"Merlin?" Gaius tried again, and it was only when he stood that Merlin's eyes flickered with recognition and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Sorry Gaius," Merlin apologised, looking as though he'd never meant the words more. Wordlessly, Gaius watched as Merlin approached the workbench, clearing up the crushed thistle and tipping the scales back up.

"Lost in thought again?" Gaius asked, gesturing for Merlin to take a seat.

For one so young, Merlin had been through a lot. Not only had he lost people, he'd also been told time and time again he had a great destiny to fulfil (that, admittedly, he was doing a fantastic job at, all things considering) and that he was the one to aid the Once and Future King to all of Albion. To know all of that was no easy task, but it was harder still when you were expected to do that and keep an eye out over your shoulder so that your head didn't end up on the chopping block.

"In a way," Merlin began, sinking into his chair and staring down into his lap. "In a way I envy Morgana." Gaius waited for an explanation. "Even though she destroyed Camelot and hurt so many people… she doesn't have to lie anymore."

Gaius understood what Merlin was trying to say. In no way was he condoning what Morgana had done, but she had achieved her idea of freedom. It was no more than what an ordinary peasant may want – the freedom to be their own person – though Morgana had abused her power and let it corrupt her.

Gaius remembered a boy who had sat on his bed, begging to be told he wasn't a monster. Gaius remembered telling that boy that magic was neither good nor evil, that it was the person who could become corrupted, and Morgana was a prime example.

Camelot had seen the evil behind magic, but never the good. For once, Merlin must want everyone to know how it could make flowers blossom, songbirds trill lullabies into the night, gather huge feasts in seconds and light warming fires without a second thought.

Yet, of course, none would ever know such things under Uther's court. Merlin knew that, but it didn't make the thought any easier to stomach.

"The time will come," was all Gaius could say and Merlin bobbed his head in return.

"I suppose so," he said, looking up to Gaius and smiling. "Sorry, just needed a few moments of self-pity there."

Gaius smiled back, looking to his scaled and beginning to calibrate them once more. Merlin stood and shuffled around behind him, no doubt looking for something to eat. He gave up trying to continue with his experiments when Merlin began humming to himself, softly and under his breath.

"How are the proceedings in Court today?" the physician decided to ask, hopefully stemming the distracting humming.

Merlin turned with a chunk of bread held up to his mouth and came back over to the table, breaking it in two to share. Gaius knew of the general state of affairs, being a trusted member of council, but Uther had given him permission to forgo most meetings and tend to the subjects of Camelot instead.

"They're preparing to negotiate with the other lands that surround Cenred's kingdom. Uther doesn't want war, but he won't let the others take of all Cenred's land." Gaius nodded; the official news of the neighbouring king's death had come in the day before and, shortly after, messengers calling for the meeting of the other Kings were being called up.

"Camelot won't cope with another war, but I don't think Uther will last more than one debate," Merlin whispered over the table, his face broken up by the scales.

Gaius knew about this too. For all intents and purposes, Arthur was now King of Camelot. Uther may not have relinquished full control, but he turned to his son always before making a decision, eyes searching his son's face as Arthur argued his point fairly. Gaius had seen it in action a few times, and each time Uther had been silent for a beat after his son had finished before nodding, passing Arthur's words down as his orders.

"Arthur may not be ready for the people just yet, but he's King in the eyes of the Court. Morgana did more than break his morale. She broke his spirit, and there is no cure known to man that can sooth that ill." Gaius' fingers played with the scales again, balancing them up until they were even.

"Have you ever loved anyone apart from Alice?"

The question startled Gaius to silence, his eyes meeting Merlin's slowly.

"You don't have to answer that," Merlin hurried on, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to pry-"

"I have loved many, it's what happens when you grow old. Some of them have come close to what I've felt with Alice, but being around her was different. Even knowing every one of her faults, I overlooked them, because that's what love does to us," Gaius said, tilting his head to look at Merlin

It wasn't really an answer to the question Merlin had asked, but Gaius had known how to answer Merlin's more in depth questions in ways he actually wanted them answered long ago.

"So… love makes you blind to the bad things about the person you love?" Merlin asked, a slight frown appearing on his brow.

Gaius shook his head. "I believe a pure love, true love, will let you see these faults as plain as day. And even knowing these faults, experiencing them all the time, you still love them… you're not blinded Merlin, if anything your eyes are opened wider."

Merlin was stock still for a moment before he got up, moving to his room to get a piece of parchment. Gaius returned to the scales while Merlin returned and stared at the sheet, deciding not to comment on it. Merlin was full of odd quirks and it was a lot less taxing to just let the young warlock get on with it all.

Nimble fingers gathered a quill and a pot of ink and Gaius watched as Merlin spread the slightly-curled page onto the desk, dipping the feather into the ink and waiting for the excess to drop down the nib. A determined look was on his face and Gaius didn't dare disturb him.

He watched Merlin scribble something onto the sheet before taking off, leaving the list behind with a shout of how he had to go help Arthur now. Gaius raised an eyebrow before staring at the door at the rushed words. It was titled 'The Plan', with only one sentence underneath – evidently it wasn't a very comprehensive plan. 'I'm not in love with Prince Prat' had evidently been there for a while now, but the ink was still drying on the rest of the words and Gaius couldn't help but chuckle.

'Except, really, I am.'

Merlin really knew how to pick his dilemmas, Gaius thought before returning to his work and wondering how much help Merlin was going to need for this plan of his.

 **The Tale of Sir Elyan (ii): The Fourth Night.**

Gwen wasn't back from her duties yet when Merlin burst into their shared home. Elyan looked up, expecting to see his sister, but instead was met with a windswept Merlin, a smile on his face.

"Is Gwen around?" he asked, looking around as if it were perfectly normal just to barge into someone's home. A beat later and Merlin turned towards the door. "Oh," he said simply, "Sorry, I just…"

Elyan took pity on him and waved away his apologies. In all honesty he didn't mind Merlin just entering. He had plenty experience with people simply walking into his old home, it being one of the best blacksmiths in town, and even a bustling city like Camelot could feel lonely.

"She's not back yet. I think she went to help the seamstresses in repairing Camelot's banners." Elyan nodded to a chair, inviting Merlin to sit.

Merlin sat, bobbing his knee up and down, before playing with the flowers on the table.

"Gwen gave me a flower once. A tiny little purple thing it was," he said wistfully and Elyan wondered for a moment if Gwen was the one Merlin was said to be pining over.

(Leon had managed to convince them the previous night that Merlin was in love, and had stated that the first man to cheer Merlin up would receive the honour of a night forgoing drink's pay. Not too much of a win, really, but it was enough to raise a cheer at their table, then around the bar, and then for the group of knights to buy everyone a drink in celebration. Which probably wasn't the best idea, as buying a lot of people drinks was expensive… but it had been fun.)

"Do flowers cheer her up? I was thinking of asking if she wanted to go on a walk at some point, to take her mind off of the whole Arthur thing, but I could bring flowers too…"

Merlin was still rambling on. Maybe it was Gwen then, but it was clear to him that Gwen loved Lancelot.

"Or maybe I should talk to Lancelot instead." Merlin's grin was slightly wolfish. "I know she's your sister and you'll probably want to gut Lancelot soon enough, but he's a great man. One of the best I've ever known. And you should see them together." Merlin's eyes clouded for a moment. "They're brilliant for each other," he said softly.

So if it wasn't Gwen, who was it?

"It's just… I haven't been much of a friend to her lately. There's been so much going on that it's been a bit difficult, and I miss her you know? She always knew where to get the best gossip from," Merlin chuckled.

Elyan supposed that much was true. Gwen had mentioned it; the fact that she never really saw Merlin much anymore. He was always too busy, darting around the castle as if the hounds of hell were snapping at his ankles.

"Well, just let her know I stopped by?" Merlin made as if to stand up and Elyan realised that he had to pry a little, get to know who it was that Merlin wanted.

"What's the horseshoe for?" Elyan had opened his mouth, about to speak, when Merlin cut him off.

The horseshoe Merlin was staring at was on the open front door. It was central to the uppermost part of the wood, nailed on with the dip at the bottom and the two ends of the shoe pointing upwards, in a 'U' shape.

"It's a symbol for good luck," he said, looking as Merlin ran an eye over the iron shoe. "Cast the bucket up, you store all the luck," Elyan recited, from tales his master blacksmith and father had told him.

It wasn't that common a tradition in big towns, but back in his old village, the horseshoes had been symbols for luck. They'd all been thrown by horses passing through, as they were said to bring the best luck from afar, before Elyan was called to heat them up, chip off any excess farriery that had been done and reshape them, if needed.

After that, they were nailed to doors, to homes and taverns alike, for the will of good luck. He told Merlin as much.

"Is it a ward?" Merlin asked, his fingers hovering over the iron.

"Some people see it as cold iron," Elyan said, "But I don't share those beliefs. There was a writer before our time, but his tales have been passed on and he believed that iron was the core of the Gods themselves, that it's the bone of the gods and the blood of us mortals."

Merlin's fingers brushed the shoe with the tips of his fingers, mapping the bumps and ridges in the work.

"I like that better than to ward off evils. It's a talisman of luck, as long as it stands upright, it contains all the luck we need. I thought that with all Camelot's been through, it wouldn't hurt to have a bit more luck."

Merlin nodded his head, finally removing his hand from the door and turning back to Elyan.

"I like the idea," he said simply, making to leave.

"The best horseshoes are the ones you find yourself, from a horse you trust. And even if it is a nice fancy, it never hurts to have a bit more luck does it?" Elyan smiled, standing to follow Merlin to the door.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Leon had been right; Merlin wasn't himself lately. None of them were, really, but it shone through in measures with Merlin because, no matter how they hadn't realised it before, he had always been there before, with a smile and a word of encouragement.

Elyan didn't think there were many who didn't get on with Merlin, and those who didn't weren't to be trusted. He'd heard the stories surrounding the Prince, and the way Merlin always stood in the background, quietly by his master's side with a smile reserved only for Arthur.

Merlin left then, saying that he'd be back at some point in the future if he didn't catch Gwen before. As he pulled his jacket tighter over his shoulders, a tiny thought niggled into the back of Elyan's head and he took time to consider it.

Merlin had always been there for Arthur, through thick and thin. He'd come to rescue Elyan and Gwen without a second thought, but it had been Merlin who'd urge the siblings away, stating that he couldn't leave Arthur.

Merlin wouldn't leave Arthur, no matter what. There was no one more important to Merlin than the Prince and Elyan wondered…

 **The Tale of Sir Lancelot (ii): The Fifth Day.**

Lancelot had been granted a rare break from training and he was using it to check on his horse. It was the same one he'd been trying to see for a while now, but there simply hadn't been enough time.

He greeted the grey gelding with an apple filched from the kitchens and a pat to the neck. The horse snorted, mouthing at the apple, before tucking his head back into the confines of the stable, turning until his dark grey rump was all Lancelot could see.

Taking the opportunity while his horse finished off the treat, Lancelot looked around the stables at the other horses. None of them belonged to Arthur (he had his own block of stables for his own horses after all), but he recognised a few of them from the other day, going to collect Guinevere.

"Come on then you brute," Lancelot heard, from the far stalls where the workhorses were stabled. "Lift up!"

There was a groan, then a heavy thud and Lancelot moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, on alert just in case. He approached the stable and was greeted by a giant nose, much larger than his own horses, and a curse from somewhere inside the stable.

"Stay still you stupid horse!" Lancelot recognised that voice and he peered over the stable door, patting the workhorse's head as he did so, to confirm his suspicions.

"Merlin?" he asked, unsure whether he really wanted to know the answer.

Lying in the straw, Merlin looked up. He was precariously close to a pile of manure, but he still smiled and pushed himself up, brushing off errant straw from his person.

"Didn't expect to find you down here," Merlin commented casually, stepping out of the stable and joining Lancelot in the main gully.

"Neither did I expect to find you… what were you doing exactly?" Lancelot noticed the way Merlin shifted his weight, as if he were trying to hide something.

"Well… it's hard to explain-"

"Had is got something to do with, you know?" Lancelot looked around swiftly, looking to see if any stable hands were around. Apparently it wasn't needed though as Merlin shook his head, smiling.

"No, nothing like that. I just need a horseshoe, but none of these look like they've got any missing."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows. "A horseshoe?" he repeated and Merlin nodded, rolling his eyes.

"I know, I know. It's a stupid thing to spend half a day looking for, when I could be doing something useful while Arthur argues over things all morning. But it's really important, to me at least, and I'd like to do one nice thing for him…" Merlin cut his speech off with a shrug.

"It's just a stupid thing," he repeated, smiling a little sadly.

Lancelot clapped Merlin's shoulder, jostling him as they moved back to the grey gelding.

"I don't think it's stupid at all," he said, noting that Merlin had mentioned he was doing this for someone. He had made a pledge to help Merlin, after all, and if this would help him with his plan for pursuing their attentions, then Lancelot would help.

"And, as it just so happens, my horse threw his shoe the other day." Lancelot could see the cogs working in Merlin's head and a brilliant smile crossed his lips.

"The other night – when you lied to Arthur for me, you said I'd been looking for it then. Is there still a chance it'll be there?" Lancelot couldn't help but smile at the slight hope in his friend's voice. Only Merlin would be able to be hopeful over a thrown piece of iron, and it was yet another reason that Lancelot could respect him so greatly.

"It should be, we could probably go pick it up today if you weren't busy." Lancelot didn't have anything else to do for the morning, but Merlin could be a different matter. They were an hour away from the midday meal and it was an opportune time for the council to split for a few hours.

But if Merlin wanted to do this, Lancelot knew that nothing he could do would stop him.

"You'd come with me too?" Lancelot nodded. It would be nice to have a bit of time outside of Camelot, and a good companion would make it all the better.

They regrouped a half-hour later, Merlin with provisions for lunch and Lancelot with his sword and travelling clothes. Though he could freely wear the garb of the Knights of Camelot, they would be best undetected and the cloaks, for all their finery, had a horrid habit of getting in the way. Leon said he'd show them a trick on how to hold the cloaks, but so far (as with so many things) there hadn't been enough time.

On their way out of Camelot – which was easy as they were both recognised faces in court – and on the trail to where Lancelot suspected the shoe would be, they talked about light things. The weather, for one, was discussed at length, and while it was a silly conversation, they both needed the light-heartedness of commenting on the abundance of clouds after all they'd been through.

Camelot had suffocated under Morgana and Morgause, and only now, almost a week later, they were only just beginning to breathe life back into the town. Markets were re-establishing themselves, but as with everything they were patchy.

Uther had been in negotiations with their allies, the troops that had been deployed to aid Camelot once messengers of Morgana's surge had finally arrived turning to hands of help, bringing fresh produce to Camelot. In return, they were supplied with fair prices and reinforcement through their treaties.

What that really meant, however, was that Arthur was assuming control. Uther's grip was waning on his own mind, let alone the kingdom. Gaius had prescribed a lot of rest, but there was only so much that the mind could deal with. Lancelot knew that Arthur was practically acting Regent at the moment, but he (like many others, though they'd never voice it) suspected it was only time, a short amount at that, before Uther abdicated the throne fully.

It was Arthur's ideas now that were leading them forward. Uther would never have allowed aid from others in the past, but Arthur sought to reinforce treaties while building Camelot back up to greatness.

It was easy to see why Merlin pledged everything he had time and time again.

"So, what are you going to do with Gwen?"

Lancelot looked over, climbing up a bank and placing a hand on a nearby tree.

"What do you mean?" Lancelot knew what Merlin meant, of course, but he didn't have to admit that.

"She's chosen you over Arthur, no matter what you did." Merlin cut Lancelot off just as he began to speak, "No, no listen. You need to hear this."

Merlin forced Lancelot to face him and bent their heads together.

"When you left, she was devastated. She thought we were asleep the next night, but we could both hear her crying. She loves you, more than I've seen anyone love another." Merlin paused, looking away slightly, over Lancelot's shoulder.

"Yes, she loves Arthur, but it's different to how she feels for you. Even if she ran away with Arthur and we never heard from them ever again, her thoughts would always be of you."

Merlin pulled back then, stepping around Lancelot and looking around the entrance to the tunnels they had entered Camelot from during their attack.

"And don't try to deny that you love her back," Merlin said, smiling again. "I've seen the way you look at her and it's slightly sickening you know."

Lancelot snorted in laughter, looking away from Merlin. It was true though; he couldn't help how he felt about Gwen.

"So, again, what are you going to do? I hear she likes flowers," Merlin said, raking his foot through the grass as they scanned for horseshoes.

"It's too soon," Lancelot said, acknowledging that he would eventually do something. He couldn't yet though, how could he when Arthur was likely torn apart with Gwen's realisation? How could he parade how he felt when the man he had sworn allegiance to would see it plain as day?

"Arthur's stronger than you give him credit for," Merlin spoke up, bending down to pick a daisy from the grass. He cut the stem with a nail and looked around for another one, looping them together and looking for more.

"Whatever Gwen said to him… well it seems less like his heart's broken than he has something he's planning. Maybe he just realised that he needs her more as a friend." Merlin sniffed, rubbing his nose from the pollen that rose from the grasses around.

"And…" he looped the daisy-chain crown onto Lancelot's head, "There. Perfect!"

Lancelot raised a hand to the flowers, tugging them off of his head and throwing them to land on Merlin's head, his crown of daisies askew.

"How is that possible though? I thought he loved Gwen." Lancelot didn't understand how a man could simply brush off that kind of heartbreak. He knew that if Gwen had ever said it to him, he'd be a broken man.

It was partly why he'd left. He couldn't stand knowing that Gwen would choose Arthur.

Except now, she hadn't. Had she?

"I still don't know what they said to each other," Merlin said again, straightening his crown. "And it's true I haven't seen as much of Arthur as before, but he's been busy. Even if he was suffering heartache, he has things to take his mind off of it all."

Plucking a blade of tall grass, Merlin stuck the end in his mouth, chewing as he carried on waving his foot over the ground for the horseshoe.

"Or maybe he has someone else," Lancelot said, the thought only just occurring. Maybe that was it, Arthur had realised he didn't love Gwen after all, and she'd known it too, and told him as much.

"Yeah, maybe," Merlin mumbled, looking at the ground. Lancelot was about to ask what the matter was – because something clearly was and Lancelot couldn't think of the answer for the life of him – when Merlin jerked in surprise.

In a flash, he was crouched on the ground, hands clutching at grasses. He emerged, triumphant, a moment later with a horseshoe held in one hand.

"I found it!" he said, smiling and waving the metal 'u' around. While it was just a horseshoe, it meant a lot to his friend and so Lancelot found himself clapping, just because they could.

"So what exactly are you going to do with it?" Lancelot asked. His thoughts strayed to Leon and what he'd said in the tavern. Was Merlin going to give it as a token of his affections?

They were well on the way back to Camelot now and the afternoon was drawing to evening. Lancelot wouldn't fear any retribution for walking out of Camelot on a day off, but Merlin… if Arthur was around and had found himself lacking in a manservant there was no knowing what consequences could occur.

"I need to clean it up a bit," Merlin said and Lancelot jerked back to the present. Maybe he should stick around Merlin for a while, make sure that Arthur didn't shout too much at him.

Lancelot always felt awkward when Arthur went off on one about Merlin's idiocy, or how Merlin was a coward. He wanted to defend his friend, say that there was so much Merlin had done for them all… but he couldn't. Not just for the fact that it was the last thing Merlin wanted, but also because he would be standing against his Prince, his future King. Lancelot never wanted to do such a thing.

"But I was going to give it to Arthur, to pin onto his doors as a good luck symbol."

Lancelot saw the secret, little smile Merlin wore and then things clicked. Merlin – the oddness when Lancelot had suggested Arthur had someone else, the horseshoe quest, Leon's thoughts and their plan…

"That's a brilliant idea," Lancelot said instead, looking at the worn out shoe. It wasn't anything special, dented and faded in places, but Merlin held it as if it was a rare treasure.

He needed to talk to Gwen, to find out if Arthur would end up breaking Merlin's heart. If Arthur had someone else, he had to know, had to swerve Merlin off course before he lost heart. The daisy-chain crown had been adapted to a necklace now and Lancelot knew that if Merlin stood without Arthur, little things that made Merlin… well, Merlin would be lost forever.

The necklace bumped against his collar a few times as Merlin walked away, waving goodbye to Lancelot. The Knight watched with a slight frown. There was no telling the future anymore and while Camelot was rebuilding herself, there wasn't quite a place for all of the people just yet.

If he couldn't fit in, Lancelot wanted Merlin to smooth back in. As long as Merlin was by Arthur's side, Lancelot could believe they could achieve anything. Even – and it did sound preposterous – uniting the whole kingdom and taking Albion under one King.

 **The Tale of Sir Percival (ii): The Fifth Night.**

There were few Knights who preferred to use their hands to kill, and while Percival hardly liked it, he was good at it. His upper body strength had earned him the nickname of 'bear' a few times, each unconnected. It was a fighting stance he had learnt as a child; make yourself big, throw them off with your arms. It worked, and he had been asked to explain his training regime and fit that into the generic Knight training.

This meant that, by the time he was done, it was already evening. Spending a day to map out his strengths and weaknesses, and then a few extra hours to plan out a training regime had taken its toll. While he wasn't tired, Percival wouldn't say no to some food and bed.

He was walking towards his chambers when he found them, Merlin and Arthur facing each other head on.

"You didn't have my permission Merlin," Arthur said, his voice low and tired. There was anger there too, and something else that Percival couldn't place.

"I was with Lancelot. We just needed to… you know." Percival saw Merlin move his hands hopelessly, and maybe before it would have worked, but Arthur's eye was sharp.

"No, actually I don't know. This is the second time you've failed to attend me and had Lancelot as a cover each time. I have no idea what you're doing, when you should be doing your job, and to be honest, I don't even know why I bother." The anger was leaking out of Arthur's tone and Percival wondered if he should walk away now.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said softly. Percival had never heard such an apology from Merlin and he took a step back, to a pillar where he could offer the others some privacy.

"I don't care," Arthur snapped, though there was no real bite to it. "You've left Camelot twice this week without even informing me. I can't let such actions pass, do you understand?"

Percival imagined that Merlin was nodding his head, bobbing it in a crazed frenzy.

"Your services are thus no longer required. You may return to your duties assisting Gaius and leave the Royal Household with your honour intact." Arthur's voice was stiff, formal.

It was crushing.

"What? What do you mean 'no longer required'? I'm not going anywhere." Merlin's voice was firm, as he dug his heels in.

Percival imagined an Arthur standing without Merlin by his side and found it physically impossible. While there had been the time during the battle against Morgana's immortal army, Arthur had at once snapped to concern when the warning bell had tolled. They had all been wondering what Lancelot and Merlin could have been doing (and trying not to think of what had happened to them), but it was Arthur who had expressed concern first.

And when they had seen the pair again, accepting Lancelot's excuse of 'We were held up', Arthur had drawn Merlin away slightly. Percival had heard the Prince and marvelled at how different they were to any other master and servant he had seen.

"Never do that to me again," Arthur had asked of his servant and Merlin had grinned back.

Yet now… Arthur was dismissing Merlin for, of all things, insubordination?

"I can't trust you if you're gallivanting across the countryside with a knight and making necklaces from daisies!" Arthur's voice had risen again, but it was still tired and old.

"I told you I had to-"

"Go." There was no leniency in the tone. "Now."

It was a command and Merlin left. Percival pressed his back to the stone column, watching until Merlin's footsteps were but a memory in his head, before stepping from his slight-hiding place.

Arthur was unsurprised to find him there and didn't even swing his head around. He had one arm braced against the wall, the forearm against the stone, and he had laid his head on the skin there.

"Can I get you anything, Sire?" Percival asked, unsure how to address the situation.

"You'd known me for a few seconds, yet you followed me," Arthur said and Percival nodded. It was true, in a way.

"Lancelot told me a lot about you, from what he'd seen himself to… well what Merlin told him when he was here." Percival stumbled slightly over Merlin's name, unsure of Arthur's reactions. The Prince didn't even stir.

"Yes, but they were just stories. Stories can't inspire a man to follow to what could have been his death." Arthur paused. "What was almost certainly his death," he corrected.

"I knew a lot about Merlin too, more about what kind of person he was. Lancelot knows him well you see, and so he told me a lot about Merlin when the letter came through." Percival knew the next words would be blunt, but they needed to be said. "And I thought, if a man like Merlin was more than happy to follow you, then I would do good by making the same judgement as he."

Silence fell around them like a blanket and for a terrible moment, Percival thought he'd said the wrong thing.

Then Arthur's hand slipped from the wall and he looked up, blue eyes dull.

"He doesn't trust me though, not completely." Arthur was hesitant, ever so slightly. Percival could tell he wasn't used to talking about how he felt and empathised – what man who fought to survive ever was comfortable with his emotions?

"Maybe not how you want him to trust you," he began, "But he'd do anything for you. We all proved we'd die for your cause, but I can say without a doubt that Merlin would die for you and you alone. All you need to do is look at him around you for a few moments and it's there."

Arthur was still silent, and Percival took it as a sign to leave.

"Percival," Arthur called out, just as he was about to move behind the pillars once more. Percival turned. "Thank you. Sometimes… it's hard and you just need someone to tell you what you already know."

Percival dipped his head, taking his leave. He moved to his rooms, taking a longer way, and thought that Leon had missed one crucial thing in his observations.

He'd forgotten to factor Arthur into it all. Well, that and the pair's obliviousness to the other. Maybe the only way they could make them see sense was to follow what Leon had said…

Then again Percival had never been one to interfere. He'd aide if need be, but if it was going to happen, it would.

Still, he'd get a shock the next time he saw Arthur and his new manservant. An unwanted shock too as Merlin was by his side, eyes wide.

 **The Tale of Sir Elyan (iii): The Sixth Day.**

Elyan stared at the little bundled package as Merlin set it on the table. They were in the blacksmiths, the fires stoked high as the blacksmiths allowed Elyan this chance to sort out the horseshoe for Merlin.

Technically while he still owned the smithy, Elyan was no longer a blacksmith. He'd forgone the position at the castle (for the moment, he knew he'd have to move up there at some point to be with the other Knights) to oversee the takeover of the workshop, but the men were more than adequate, having worked there most of their lives with his father.

Still, they'd obliged him when he asked to fire up the coals for Merlin's horseshoe and they had taken an early lunch to let them do the task.

"I'll just hammer it slightly back into shape, just so it looks a bit nicer," Elyan explained as Merlin took up residence in one of the stools nearby.

Slipping back into the task of a blacksmith was easy; Elyan thought as he heated the coals and stuck the horseshoe in. He waited until it would be malleable before placing it under his hammer and twitching his hand occasionally, perfecting the rounded shape.

He could feel Merlin watching, absorbing what he was seeing, and Elyan turned to his friend, holding out the hammer.

"Add a slight personal touch," Elyan said and Merlin took the hammer, looking a little lost. His eyes never left the horseshoe as he brought the hammer down, ever so gently.

Elyan laughed, gripping Merlin's hand in his own and raising to strike. The clang of metal sounded around them and Merlin nodded, raising his hand up and bringing it down. After the single blow, Elyan moved to the small well of water beside him, nodding at the hiss as the horseshoe hit the water.

"There we go," he said as he pulled the shoe out. It was still clearly used, with bumps and dents, but it was slightly more curved, a little more rounded. In this shape it would hang better and he passed the horseshoe back to Merlin.

"Thank you," was the reply, aided with a smile that didn't quite reach the eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Elyan ventured, taking another stool. They had to wait for the other smiths to return before leaving as the forge was still hot, so it seemed like a good time to strike up conversation.

"No," Merlin began, turning the horseshoe over and over in his hands, fingers dipping into all the bumps and scratches. "Well, yeah."

Elyan waited, watching Merlin's hands as they played with the iron shoe.

"I don't know what I should do. All I wanted to do was something nice for Arthur, however silly it might be. He'll just look at it and say that it's a boring horseshoe, but I'd like to think he'd humour me." Merlin's hand fell still. "But he doesn't trust me."

So the horseshoe was to be a gift for the Prince, that much made sense. But what was this about Arthur not trusting Merlin? It didn't seem possible.

"Doesn't trust you?" Elyan couldn't help but voice, and his stomach dropped a little at Merlin's miserable nod.

"He fired me last night, but that wasn't the worst thing. He's fired me before," Merlin gave a little smile to the memories, "But he's never sounded like he really meant it. I thought he trusted me."

A bitter, ugly laugh sounded in the blacksmiths and Elyan looked at Merlin with a frown. This wasn't the Merlin he knew, so where had that laugh come from?

"I shouldn't have been so stupid, really. Of course he can't trust me can he?" Merlin gave a deep sigh before looking up apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he began, yet Elyan held up a hand.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he said. The other blacksmiths were returning now and so they stood, leaving the stools behind and thanking the other men. "But I think you're the one person Arthur trusts more than anyone else."

Elyan thought the words would have comforted Merlin, but he watched his friend leave with a slightly hunched back, pulling his jacket around himself even though the weather was mild today. The plan to help Merlin get the love of his life would have to be put on hold; they needed to help get Arthur and Merlin back together before they worked on anything else.

And once they were back as friends, Elyan could drop the bombshell that the Prince and his manservant were both secretly (though not secretly enough) in love with each other.

Simple. In theory.

 **The Tale of Sir Leon (ii): The Sixth Night.**

Earlier, Leon had watched as Arthur stepped onto the training grounds. A young man had followed, arms full of weaponry, struggling under the weight, but the Prince had merely marched onwards, gesturing to one of the tables set up. The servant had struggled over to the table and hauled the weapons onto it, lining them up before stepping to the side, allowing the Prince to choose.

It had been a while since Arthur had been given the opportunity to train these past few days, and he'd gestured to a nearby Knight, calling him to combat.

There had been something off with the Prince, Leon noted. His stance had been perfect and his blows precise, but there was something wrong with the man beneath the warrior. His style had shifted, from one of practice to one of frustration and it seemed as if each blow was designed to simply bash out his problems.

Leon wasn't sure it was his own place to say something to Arthur, but it was clear no one else was. Merlin hadn't been around all day so it was somewhat fruitless to suspect him to talk sense into Arthur, so Leon would give it his best shot.

"Sire?" he called, knuckles rapping on the door of Arthur's chambers. The young servant from earlier opened the door, bowing curtly and allowing Leon inside.

Arthur was standing by his fire, looking into the flames, and he made no movement as Leon walked to him.

"You're dismissed," he finally said, nodding to the servant. "I'll send someone for you if you're needed, otherwise I'll see you tomorrow."

Leon waited for the servant to leave before he spoke cautiously. "Where's Merlin?"

Arthur picked up a log from the fireside, throwing it into the flames. The fire stalled under it for a moment before it rose a little, mouthing at the new log and slowly burning into it.

"I no longer required his services," he said stiffly, and Leon knew there was so much more behind what the Prince said.

It wasn't, however, his place to ask. He was Arthur's man first and foremost and he knew that his friend needed him and couldn't let him down.

"But something's the matter," Leon said gently, probing ever so slightly.

Arthur turned away from the fire with a sharp nod. There were dark circles under his eyes and he moved with the weariness of a man with the world on his shoulders.

"Times are changing," he began, taking a seat at his table. Untouched plates of food sat on the surface and Arthur started to pick at a few things, pushing them around but not ever placing them in his mouth. "My father can't rule for much longer, he said as much. Everyone knows it, but I'm not ready."

Leon moved to the table, sitting down so he was at Arthur's level.

"He said I've passed every test he can think of, that I'd make a fine King as I am, but I can't take control now. There are so many things to do, but how can I do them with him still here?" Arthur pushed the plates away, a frown on his face. "I can't change anything, can I? I love my father, but even if I am King, nothing would change."

Leon didn't know what he could say. This was something Arthur needed to figure out on his own, and he wasn't Merlin. Merlin wouldn't think twice about offering his advice, about saying what Arthur needed to hear. But Leon was just a Knight; he couldn't be the advice Arthur needed, though he could be a pillar of support.

"We'll support you no matter what," he offered weakly.

"I know," Arthur replied, fingers running over the table, smoothing a patch of the wood. His eyes were downcast, his lips pressed together tightly.

"You should join us for training whenever you get the chance. I know it's hard, but the council sessions are letting up. It's nice for everyone to see you again." Again, another statement that wouldn't get through much, but Arthur needed to know all of this, know that he had his knights behind him wholly.

"Thank you for overseeing them while I was occupied."

Leon nodded, "It was nothing. I also oversaw the new plans for Elyan, Percival, Lancelot and Gwaine. They'll be joining the others from tomorrow onwards."

Arthur nodded, "Good. They're all good men, I'll be glad to have them with the others."

Silence stretched between them, the crackling of the fire the only noise. Outside they could hear the sounds of Camelot's continued struggle to clear free of Morgana's influence as it floated in through the open window.

"Has Guinevere talked to Lancelot yet?"

Leon was startled somewhat by the topic. Was it wise for Arthur to talk about Gwen in this mood?

"I don't think so, Sire," he replied cautiously.

"If you see her, tell her to get a move on. Their moping won't get them anywhere and they deserve happiness sooner than later, while everything's settling down."

Searching Arthur's words, Leon couldn't find any jealousy to them. In fact, he sounded better that he had with their previous conversation, and as if he truly meant his words.

"Won't… seeing them together… won't it be somewhat…" It was a hard subject to approach, emotions, but Arthur seemed to understand.

"Guinevere told me a few things that helped me to realise something. I suppose I do love her, but…" Arthur broke off, clearing his throat. "I've come to the realisation that she and I are two people who cannot fully give ourselves to each other. She loves Lancelot and I…"

Arthur broke off again, reaching for one of the plates. He plucked a grape from its stem and placed it in his mouth, chewing mechanically.

"Hypothetically," Arthur began, looking at Leon. "If there was someone by your side the whole time, would that make them trust you? Show that, no matter what, they would do anything for you?"

Leon nodded, not voicing that he suspected this hypothetical situation was, in fact, the truth ad this 'someone' was indeed Merlin.

"But," Arthur continued, breaking another grape off. "What would you do if they continuously lied to you? You've assumed they trust you fully and so you trust them back… and it's not that they've proved untrustworthy… but how can you be sure that they mean everything they say?"

Whatever had happened between the two seemed more serious than anything before and so Leon refrained from mentioning Merlin's name.

"In this hypothetical situation," he began slowly, choosing his words. "I think that the person wanting to know if the other trusts them should talk to them. And think about what gives them second thoughts about their trust."

Arthur nodded absentmindedly, picking at a piece of bread.

"I fired Merlin," he said, "Because he lied to me. How about then?"

"Find out why he lied, then find out why he couldn't tell you the truth," Leon replied. "If it's Merlin, then he must have a reason."

Leon found it hard to stomach that Arthur had second thoughts about Merlin's loyalty, but there was so much that had happened since Morgana had been overthrown that he didn't know. Like, for instance, what Merlin and Lancelot had done during the fight, what had turned the battle, where Merlin had been and where Arthur had been all week. They all had their own duties, their own lives, and it seemed that they hardly crossed any more, in the aftermath.

"So I should speak to him?" Arthur asked and Leon wondered if he'd ever been asked for his advice on Arthur's personal issues before.

"It might help," Leon said.

Silence returned once more and, after a few minutes, Leon stood.

"I best retire," he said, bowing to Arthur. He'd crossed the floor to the doorway before Arthur spoke.

"Thank you Leon, it seems I'm gaining a lot more help these days," he said mysteriously.

As Leon walked back to his rooms, it was easy to piece everything together. Whatever Gwen had said to Arthur, he had realised that he loved Merlin. It made sense, really, when you thought about their relationship with each other.

And as for Merlin? Well, Leon would need to see him to confirm what he thought, but there was no one else for Merlin but Arthur.

Now, it was simply a matter of getting Arthur to repair the damage he'd caused by firing Merlin and get Merlin to show that Arthur could trust him. It almost seemed like a hopeless cause, and would be if the two concerned were anyone but Merlin and Arthur… but there was something about the two of them.

After this was done, Leon resolved to stick to his original career plan. Being a knight was hard, yes, but a matchmaker was harder still.

 **The Tale of Sir Gwaine (ii): The Seventh Day.**

Gwaine raised an eyebrow as Leon let slip the edited plan. It wasn't just to cheer Merlin up anymore (of course not, that would be far too easy), or to set him up with the love of his life… no, it was to set him up with Prince Arthur.

"Ridiculous," Gwaine said, dismissing the nods around him. "No way am I helping with this. I can accept that maybe Merlin does need cheering up, and maybe he is in love with Arthur and vice versa… but I'm not going to help."

He crossed his arms. As far as Gwaine was concerned, this was the line he wouldn't cross. It was easy to say that they were meant for each other – he had spent a lot of time with just the two of them, and they acted like a married couple half of the time – but he didn't have to play a part in this scheme. He was a knight now, begrudgingly perhaps, and it wasn't a very knightly thing.

He said as much.

"We're supposed to be chivalrous," Elyan chipped in, smirking at the irritated look on Gwaine's face. "Matchmaking fits with that."

"We're also supposed to recuse damsels in distress. I don't see any damsels in distress here," Gwaine countered, gritting his teeth. He refused to be taken down into this scheme.

"True, but you'd be more willing if Arthur used you as his next target opponent." Leon rolled his shoulder round, grimacing as he flexed his arm. He'd been the Prince's latest target and while he'd held his own, Arthur struck a harsh blow when he was in a particularly foul mood.

"We just want him to be happy and if Merlin does that then-" Leon ducked his head suddenly, coughing.

"Who am I making happy?"

Gwaine turned around to see Merlin's curious look, his eyes flickering around the group of knights. He had an amused smile on his face and Gwaine wondered how much he'd heard – or even how much he'd figured out.

"Arthur," Gwaine said simply. No point in beating around the bush after all and he ignored the looks he received for it. "He's been in an awful mood since he dismissed you. Any chance you can get your job back?"

Merlin's smile stiffened, dropping a little. "Not at the moment." There was a pause, before Merlin's hands moved to the bag he word.

"Oh, I have to go. Deliver these for Gaius… good luck with your training." He walked off then, leaving them to their lunch.

"And you still think they don't need help?" Lancelot smiled as Gwaine looked at him.

"Well-"

"Even I can see they're too stubborn to do anything about it," Percival muttered, biting into an apple.

"When did we turn into a group of gossiping maids? Last time I checked I still had balls between my legs and setting people up is not in my comfort zone, thank you very much." In reality, Gwaine knew it was only a matter of time before he caved into the ridiculous plan, as was the problem with choosing friends in times of hardships. Now he couldn't get rid of them and was stuck with a bunch of romantic pansies.

(Not that he would choose other people for friends, but it was the principle of the matter.)

"Merlin has a present for the Prince," Elyan whispered.

Gwaine looked on as grown men huddled together like children over a secret, saucy tale. It was pathetic, and Gwaine felt miserable as he joined them, eating his sandwich as Elyan relayed the tale of the horseshoe.

"But it's just a horseshoe," Leon pointed out, to which Lancelot countered.

"I was with him when he found it. It's not just a horseshoe to him… it means much more than a luck token too." Leon nodded to this.

"But what exactly do we do?" Gwaine had given in, why not? It was just a matter of time before he joined the madness and aside from training, Camelot was fairly boring at the moment. He was used to nightly brawls in taverns to outlet his boredom and this way, at least, he wouldn't get barred from anywhere.

"They have to make the first move, really. We can't do anything unless they get over this tiff they have," Leon said.

"Arthur said he doesn't trust Merlin though, that's not exactly a tiff is it?" Percival pointed out and Leon nodded.

"They'll talk about it soon, I think. But we can't force them to get over this issue, and until they sort it out, there's little we can actually do." Leon sighed, looking over to the other knights, grouping back on the training grounds.

"Just keep chipping away at them until they finally do something?" Elyan supplied and it was met with nods all round.

Gwaine returned with the others to the field, watching as Arthur drew one of the older knights to combat. He'd never admit it aloud, but even he could see there was something wrong with the Prince.

And he'd seen them together, drawn into private little conversations together and then when Arthur had looked at him, every time he slung his arm around Merlin. Even back in the slave trader Jarl's den, Arthur had stepped up to take Merlin's place as if it were only the natural thing to do.

Maybe for the pair of them it was.

And, maybe, Gwaine could sacrifice the pessimism in him to help his friends. Just this once though.

 **The Tale of Guinevere: The Seventh Night.**

Gwen had been somewhat surprised when Merlin asked her for an evening walk. She hadn't spent much time with him since they'd faced the goblin-in-Gaius a while back, and even then they hadn't exactly done it for fun.

Plus, even then the gap between them had been clear, and Gwen could see what it was labelled now. Arthur had stood between them, not that he'd meant to and she was almost certain Merlin didn't realise it, but she had.

Speaking to Arthur had been easy. All she'd needed to do was talk to him about Lancelot, explain that she did love Arthur, but it was Lancelot who had her heart. Strangely, there hadn't been any hurt looks or any desperate attempts to make her see that she should be with him.

"I know," Arthur had said instead, in an almost-whisper as he looked out at his Camelot. "You've always loved Lancelot more than me, but I didn't want to believe it."

Gwen had wanted to reach out then, smooth the frown from Arthur's face, but she didn't have the right anymore.

"It's not that I don't love you," she'd explained, but Arthur simply nodded.

"It's okay Guinevere," he'd replied, a little sadly. "You don't have to explain it to me."

But she had to. Arthur wasn't supposed to be this accepting, this docile about her breaking his heart. He was supposed to fight for her, be angry and shout about it. He'd done it so many times with Merlin and-

Oh.

That was it, wasn't it?

"Merlin?" she had asked softly, eyes searching his face. There was no flicker of acknowledgement or face lighting up at the mention of his manservant's name, but Gwen could feel the change in the air.

"I never…" Arthur began, but broke off shortly after.

Gwen had smiled, reaching to take Arthur's hand.

"We can't help who we give our hearts to," she had said, forcing Arthur to look at her. "I love Lancelot and you love Merlin."

Arthur hadn't even tried to deny this, but he'd met Gwen's eyes with a little sadness in them.

"You should tell him," she had said, smiling. Strangely, it didn't hurt to find out that Arthur hadn't given her his heart. A week ago her world may have crumbled, but now? Now there was no need to lie – to herself, to Arthur, to anyone who wanted to look at them.

Gwen had left with the burst of knowledge that she was loved by her Prince, but with the greater knowledge that Arthur cared far greater for someone. Someone who was more worthy of his affections than she was, for Arthur needed someone there for him through thick and thin.

During their battle against Morgana, Merlin had stood by Arthur's side, even when Arthur ordered her to stay behind. She had wanted to voice that she could fight, wanted to say that just because she was a woman didn't make her any less of a fighter… but she knew Arthur knew this.

So she'd lied to herself, said it was because he loved her. It wasn't exactly. While he didn't want her hurt, he certainly hadn't forced Merlin behind. Not that he could have, Gwen supposed, but time and time again Arthur had mentioned how bad Merlin was at fighting and yet he'd let him go with them.

Arthur and Merlin. Merlin and Arthur. They sounded perfect together, better than Arthur and Guinevere. There was no bitterness, never had been, when thinking of them together, rather than her. Merlin deserved happiness, as did Arthur, but she only knew one side of their story.

Merlin deserved Arthur, she knew that much, but did Arthur deserve Merlin? Merlin was a great man, yes, but there was so much she didn't know about him, too much that had happened recently that Gwen couldn't fully explain.

So when Merlin had asked if she wanted to go for a walk, she'd jumped at the chance. Merlin showed up just as the evening was falling, with a bouquet of flowers and a grin.

"For the noble lady," he said, bowing with a flourish and drawing a laugh from Gwen. After the flowers were placed on the table, she looped her arm through Merlin's and they set out for the lower town.

"How are you," Merlin asked, his voice low and full of concern. Even through his problems (Gwen had seen Arthur's new manservant and sent a worried look to Arthur the next time she'd seen him alone, not that he'd responded with anything), Merlin was still thinking of others.

When wasn't he?

"I'm fine," Gwen replied, smiling. It was true; she was fine.

"You're not upset or anything over Arthur?"

The look of concern was so clear in Merlin's eyes that Gwen couldn't stifle the little chuckle.

"No Merlin, really I'm fine. Arthur and I… we were just too different and too much the same. Sometimes you meet someone in the exact same position and it's comfortable, safe, and you don't need to think about anything. That was how it was with Arthur. I loved Lancelot, I couldn't have him, but Arthur was there."

Merlin was frowning. "But you're his true love and… and after all you've been through with Morgana exposing you to Uther and setting the charms…"

"It's true we've been through a lot," Gwen admitted. "But sometimes it's not so simple."

Nothing was said for a moment, before Gwen thought of what Merlin had said. "But that wasn't Morgana was it? Well, not her directly. She had help."

Merlin looked confused in the dying light of the sun. "Help? She set the charms and told Uther. Even you suspected her… why would you say she had help?"

Gwen looked carefully at Merlin. "Because of that sorcerer… you know, the one Arthur found in his rooms."

Merlin's face dropped a little and he nodded hastily. "Oh, I heard about that, yes. Very odd."

Gwen nodded slowly, "Yes, very odd. He seemed like a doddery old man, but did you see what he did to the burning platform?"

Merlin shook his head. "No, I was, er… sleeping off the ill effects of alcohol. Spent the day in the tavern you see."

"Right," Gwen said. "It is odd though," she continued conversationally, "That he vanished completely. No one's even heard of him either, and Uther had influences that can sniff out powerful sorcerers."

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he's just exceptional at hiding himself? You said he looked like a doddery old man."

Gwen hummed, dropping the subject. There was a lot between them that hadn't been said, but Gwen wasn't the one to bring it up. What Merlin chose to do with his free time was nothing to do with her, and if he had something to do with freeing her from execution then she owed Merlin her life.

"Well, I owe him for saving my life," was all she said on the subject, before she looked upwards. The sun had set fully now and the moon was bright over the town.

"Do you love Arthur?" she said boldly, eyes staring upwards. She felt Merlin flinch next to her, but kept her arm entwined with his. She wasn't there to hurt him, but she had to know.

"It's okay if you do, you know. It's scary, falling in love, but it's brilliant." Gwen dipped her head, hair falling into her eyes. "You should talk to him," she said, reaching a hand out to stroke Merlin's cheek. It was a motherly gesture, she knew that, but she couldn't help herself.

Not when Merlin looked this lost. Merlin wasn't ever supposed to look lost. Gwen had always been so sure that Merlin could solve anything, and she'd never been disappointed. He'd achieved the impossible so many times and yet… here he was, looking so scared that she had to let him know it was alright to be this scared.

"It's okay," she smiled, "You deserve someone who makes you happy, and so does Arthur. No one can compare to you two."

Gwen removed her hand, dropping it to her side. The distance between them was shortening, Arthur slotting into place beside Merlin and opposite Gwen, not between them. Arthur was Merlin's, not Gwen's, and that was just fine.

"You could say we're two sides of the same coin," Merlin muttered, looking away with a snort of laughter. There was weight behind the words, but it was something that Gwen didn't know of.

"Perhaps it's destiny?" She laughed, linking their arms and drawing their walk back round.

She missed the flicker of surprise in Merlin's eyes, and instead drew him into the on-going war between the cooks and the suppliers.

"Mary says they're being under stocked with cabbages and overflowed with carrots. I'm not sure why this is a terrible thing, but apparently it is. You want to know what the supply boy said in return?"

It was a colourful reply and Merlin's laughter echoed around them.

There. Gwen believed everything was back on track, back to how it should be. With each echo of laughter, she felt their friendship mending, knitting back together. She felt Merlin taking the plunge, falling towards his place by Arthur, and herself moving towards Lancelot.

It didn't even sting. The stories all told of betrayed and scorned lovers, but that was never them.

There was no doubt that Arthur deserved Merlin. Anyone else and he would settle for far less, something that made no sense to Gwen.

 **Tale of Sir Percival (iii): The Eighth Day.**

"Percival!"

Percival turned at the voice to see Merlin rushing towards him, a bag banging into his side. He was probably delivering more potions for Gaius and so Percival slowed, waiting.

"Heading to the training grounds?" Merlin asked and grinned at the nod he received. "I'll join you! I need to hand out a few things to some of the knights and then head to the lower town."

Merlin seemed in a better mood than he had in the past and Percival wondered if the short break from Arthur had done more good than harm.

At least, that was his view until Arthur came into sight, a little way ahead of them and obviously on his own way to the training grounds. His servant of late tagging along at his heels, arms laden with weapons.

"Oh," Merlin said miserably, "I didn't realise Arthur was training again."

Percival nodded, "He finds time now between council sessions to beat the hell out of us. It's not really training, more of a way to vent his anger."

Percival met Merlin's curious eyes with a level stare.

"But what does he have to vent? I thought he was able to handle the council sessions…" Merlin trailed off uncertainly.

"I think the main problem is that he's missing you," Percival jumped at the bit, diving in. Merlin's eyes widened and he looked over to Arthur. "Not that he'd admit it of course."

They walked on then, Percival watching the Prince too. He looked strange, with the struggling man by his side instead of Merlin. If it was Merlin, though, he most likely would have told Arthur to carry his own weapons, but the servant in front of them? Far too docile, too trained, nothing like Merlin.

He wasn't what Arthur needed.

"He's not a good servant," Merlin muttered and Percival looked at him in surprise. There was a hint of jealousy in Merlin's voice and he hid a smile.

"No?" he asked, innocently.

"No," Merlin agreed. "Look at him, carrying all those weapons. He shouldn't put up with that, Arthur shouldn't be such a prat to him. Not that anyone would tell him that of course." Merlin sighed, "Despite what he said at the Round Table, he's much too happy to let other people do the dirty work."

Percival contemplated this. "Well yes, he's a Prince. He has an image to maintain."

Merlin's eyes narrowed, still fixed on the other-servant. "Still doesn't mean he gets to be a prat. Someone needs to talk to him about it before he hurts the poor guy's feelings."

Percival smiled innocently. "Why don't you talk to him then?"

It was far too easy that he suspected there had to be some kind of catch to it all. Getting them to talk to each other again was supposed to be a hard task – Leon had said as much. They were both too stubborn to make the first move, but Percival knew if one of them would do it, it would be Merlin.

"Me? Talk to Arthur?" Merlin laughed a little then, but it was strained. Clearly he'd had this conversation before then.

"Yes, why not?" Percival prodded as they entered the training grounds. Merlin shot him a dark look as he moved amongst the grouped knights, handing out a few bottles.

Before he left, he passed by Percival.

"Let's say you have a point," he began and Percival smiled. "No, it's just saying. Don't go getting ideas." Merlin sighed before carrying on. "What makes you so sure he wants to talk to me?"

The answer was so easy that Percival just gave Merlin a look, then a smile. He began to move off as Merlin shook his head, but he knew he'd prodded enough.

And, sure enough, as he moved to join Lancelot at the side of the field, he saw Merlin pass Arthur, eyes fixed on the Prince.

"Just a matter of time now," Lancelot commented.

Percival looked to his friend and nodded, before being called up to fight Arthur. He supposed it had been a matter of time for this too – he was the only one of their little group not to fight the Prince and he'd been itching to test himself against Arthur.

Today was looking to be a good day.

 **The Tale of Sir Leon (iii): The Eighth Night.**

Without meaning to, Leon always seemed to walk in on important conversations. It wasn't eavesdropping (not really, because he never meant to walk in on things), but there wasn't really another name for it.

It was how he'd found out about the cook-supplier war, and how one of the cooks had taken fancy to one of the delivery boys and was contemplating committing treason to her cause. It was how he'd found out what noble ladies really thought about noble knights – or rather how they would prefer them to be less chivalrous and a little more passionate. That one had been particularly disturbing as a few of the ladies had wanted their clothes ripped off in interesting places, all in fits of passion of course.

It was also how he found out that Arthur had taken Merlin back as his manservant.

For such a big castle, it was ridiculous how many people one managed to run into when you just wanted to mind your own business, and Leon had assumed, foolishly it seemed, that the area near the stairs to Morgana's former chambers would be deserted. There was a good window there too, and it was a place he liked to visit to think.

Except he heard the sound of Arthur's voice before he rounded the corner and so he froze, just peeking around to see who the Prince was talking to.

Merlin stood there, close to Arthur, but still respecting his space.

"You're miserable," Leon heard Merlin say and knew then he was doomed. How could he not listen in when that was a conversation opener? Especially when it was between Merlin and Arthur.

"No I'm not," Arthur replied stubbornly. "I'm great. See? Not everything needs you to make it brilliant."

It was childish, really, but it didn't seem to bother Merlin.

"No, but you do." Silence rang out and Leon pressed himself back into the wall. It was such an awkward moment, one that he knew he shouldn't really be there for… but he couldn't move away.

"Says who?" Arthur asked, and Leon could tell he moved away from Merlin, judging by the few footfalls.

"I do, mainly." If Leon hadn't realised it before, he did fully now; Merlin was ridiculously brave. Here he was, facing a Prince as he would face a man of his equal. He didn't care about status or courtly proceedings and instead took the bull by its horns.

He was everything Arthur needed.

"I know you don't trust me, but I don't know why. I've been by your side this whole time; I'd never betray you, never." He spoke with such honesty and conviction that Leon didn't know how Arthur could defend his distrust after that.

"I thought that about Morgana too."

Leon bit his lip. Arthur sounded so wounded, so hurt, that it hurt him too. Morgana's betrayal was a hard blow to them all still, but none of them had really stopped to consider how Arthur felt about it all. He had appeared to be coping with it all, but why should he be seen to cope? Finding out you had a half-sister, having her take the throne and destroy your kingdom and then go missing… how could anyone just deal well with that?

"I know she hurt you, but that isn't your fault. She was scared and alone… she thought Morgause was her only way out, the only way to feel safe and loved."

"Morgause?" Arthur's voice was bleak and Leon realised he wasn't the only one who felt he was missing something.

"Morgana… she has magic." Leon's eyes widened in surprise. During Morgana's reign, she had never shown an inkling of possessing magic. It was always Morgause who had performed the more magical acts of violence, but perhaps that was the real reason for her destroying Camelot.

"She spent the last year learning under Morgause to bring down Camelot, to kill you…" Merlin's voice trailed off. "She helped Cenred and Morgause invade before."

Leon remembered that time; against the immortal skeletons. It had been Morgana that Uther had congratulated upon ending the spell, so why was Merlin saying that she had helped them?

"But Morgana destroyed the source of the spell in the tombs…" For once, Leon was grateful Arthur didn't understand.

Merlin's voice was patient as he spoke. "Morgana was the one to call the army of the dead forward. I-" his voice trembled a little with restraint. "I was the one who destroyed the yew staff."

"So you knew? You knew Morgana was plotting against us this whole time?" Arthur sounded hurt, again, and Leon flinched at his tone.

"Yes," Merlin said without hesitation. "But I couldn't tell you."

Something hovered around them and Leon found he wanted to know more. There were secrets entwined around them, unstoppable.

"How can I trust you Merlin? You've admitted you've kept things from me…"

"I know," came the reply, soft and warm. "And I have so many more things to tell you. I will tell you, because I trust you with my secrets, but not now. It's not the right time, not yet."

Arthur's sigh was weighted as Merlin finished.

"Do you ever tire of being so confusing?" Merlin didn't reply. "Sometimes I feel like I hardly know you," Arthur admitted and Leon knew that he'd heard enough.

"You know me better than anyone," Merlin replied softly and Leon pushed away from the wall.

"You can have your old job back," he heard as he walked away, and Arthur's voice was heavy with indecision, so vulnerable.

But Leon trusted Merlin to be careful with Arthur's heart in his hands. They had their problems between them, but Leon trusted Merlin with his own life and saw now that he could trust his future King's. Merlin, no matter what he'd done, had never set out to hurt Arthur and Leon believed it was physically impossible for him.

No matter what he was holding back from Arthur, Leon knew it didn't matter. Merlin loved Arthur, and that was more than enough.

 **The Tale of Sir Lancelot (iii): The Ninth Day.**

"So Arthur knows?" Lancelot asked, leading the two horses after Merlin as he inspected yet another bush.

"No," Merlin replied, sticking his hands into the bush with a frown.

"But you just said-"

"I told him that I knew about Morgana," Merlin cut in, pulling his hands from the bush and moving to the next one. "And I said that I had more things to tell him, but I haven't actually told him about me yet."

"Oh," Lancelot said, looking around as he slopped through yet another puddle. They'd been out in the rain for about an hour now, Merlin saying he needed to talk to Lancelot. They'd taken two horses from the stables before Merlin had dismounted; saying that he also needed some plants for Gaius.

Then, Merlin had proceeded to get his conversation with Arthur off of his chest. Which, Lancelot supposed, was only fair, after all, Merlin didn't have anyone he could confide in honestly aside from Gaius, and this could be a particularly delicate subject to talk about with someone you thought of as a father.

"But you're going to tell him?" Lancelot asked, frowning as Merlin stuck his hands into another bush.

"Yeah, at some point. It's not the right time yet, but he trusts me enough to let me resume my former position. I even asked if I could take this time off." Merlin sounded proud of his achievement, though it was the standard thing for any other servant.

"Well done Merlin," Lancelot muttered. He loved Merlin, really, but sometimes there was only so much mud and rain a man could take when standing with two annoyed horses.

"How important is this thing you're looking for?" he asked, hoping Merlin would give up his search.

"It's for Uther. The one thing I can't miss, unfortunately, and it's the hardest thing to find." Merlin was yet again elbow-deep in foliage, but this time he pulled back with something in his hands.

"Here we go!" he said with glee, shoving a pathetic-looking weed towards Lancelot. "And we're all done," he added, placing the weed in his bag and taking the reins of his horse.

They mounted and the horses set off eagerly, wanting to get back to dry warmth as much as their riders. They handed the horses off to a pair of stable boys and turned to the castle, covered in mud and sopping wet.

"How will you know it's the right time?" Lancelot asked as they walked to Gaius' workroom.

"I don't know," Merlin admitted, "But I know it's not at this moment. Arthur would kill me for getting mud all over his room for one."

Since he had been given his old position back, Merlin had changed again. His laughter was livelier and his smiles were wider. To anyone who bothered to look deeper than the surface, it was clear Merlin was glowing inside and Lancelot longed to tease his friend about his 'secret' love for Arthur.

He couldn't though, not when the thought was still so fragile. Lancelot couldn't be the one to break it.

"I don't think I'll be okay if he hates me," Merlin said softly as they entered the workroom. Gaius was missing and Merlin sat down on a bench, resting his head on his hands.

Lancelot waited patiently, sitting next to Merlin.

"He can dismiss me from his service, throw me in the stocks, throw me in prison… none of those matters… but if he hates me, really hates me…" Merlin's voice was fragile and Lancelot realised he'd been thinking of this for such a long time.

Merlin was scared.

"I don't think Arthur could ever hate you," Lancelot said simply, looking sideways at Merlin. "Angry, maybe, surprised probably. He might be a little hurt, but he won't hate you."

Lancelot wholly believed what he was saying and tried to convey it in his tone.

"He's incapable of hating you, just as you are at hating him."

Lancelot was expecting a shake of the head or a nod, but the small smile that placed itself on Merlin's lips was an odd sight.

"Would you believe me if I said a dragon told me as much a very long time ago?" Merlin's voice was mischievous, daring Lancelot to call him a liar. If it were anyone else, Lancelot would scoff… but this was Merlin.

"Is this the same dragon who gave you that sword?" he asked instead, smiling.

Merlin nodded, "The one and the same." Merlin picked at some dry mud, looking down at his clothes. "Thank you," he said to Lancelot.

Lancelot had been thanked before, many times, but never had they sounded as sincere as Merlin's gratitude did.

"Arthur will be lucky to have you," he said, standing to leave. The mud was beginning to dry and he needed to change before joining the others training.

"He already has me, remember he hired me back?" Merlin's voice was amused, as though he thought Lancelot hadn't been listening.

"I know," Lancelot said as he opened the door. "And you should get a move on so you can start your own happiness."

He closed the door, smiling as Merlin's eyes widened. Had he really thought no one had noticed? Arthur he could expect not to notice, what with being so busy, but Merlin?

It was yet another reason to the ever-growing list of what made Merlin such a good friend. All he deserved was his own happiness and it was getting to the point that Leon was sure to get them all into a plan where they simply locked the two in a room to confess to each other before they were let out.

Lancelot only hoped it never reached such drastic (and pathetic, really) measures. Though he did have to admit, it was frustrating to see the pair of them stepping around each other when it would be so easy just to push them together.

Then again, if they were pushed together then the most likely thing they'd do would be to pull apart.

Lancelot sighed. He'd met mules less stubborn than those two.

 **The Tale of Sir Gwaine (iii): The Ninth Night.**

Gwaine could sense the laughter before he even looked up at Merlin. He rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat as Gaius finished wrapping his foot up.

"So, tell me Sir Gwaine… how did you manage to get such a nasty wound?" Merlin was barely containing the laughter now. "A mighty battle where an enemy stuck his sword into your foot? Or did you fall when trying to rescue a fair maiden, onto an enemy's arrow?"

Gwaine let out a sarcastic laugh. Merlin knew very well how he had acquired the large cut on his foot and was enjoying making a tale of it all.

"Or…" Merlin stopped, sniggering. "Or was it because-"

"I didn't know she had iron-soled boots now did I?" Gwaine huffed.

Merlin let out a bark of laughter, "There was no iron!" Gwaine ignored him. "She just had immense leg strength. Pretty amazing that she managed to do that much damage, but that's what you get for trying to flirt with the barmaid!"

Merlin was enjoying this far too much. Gaius seemed to share Gwaine's sentiments for he slapped the back of his ward's head and stared at him disapprovingly.

"Thank you Gaius!" Gwaine said, looking pointedly at Merlin. "See, someone's on my side after all!"

It was then that Gaius whacked him around the head too, muttering about insolent boys, and Merlin let out another peal of laughter.

"Out with you," came Gaius' annoyed voice a moment later and he shoo-ed them from the room.

Halfway down the corridor, Merlin was still laughing.

"It's not even that funny you know," Gwaine said, marvelling at how much pleasure Merlin took in his injured foot. He wasn't even walking with a limp, yet with each step Merlin appeared to take great delight in not-concealing his laughter.

"Let me take my small pleasures," Merlin said, sniffing with a sigh. It appeared that he had finally managed to control his laughter, for which Gwaine was grateful. It was a tad embarrassing that he'd had his foot damaged by a barmaid, but he supposed it was well deserved.

It had been Merlin, actually, that had suggested they go for a drink after a hard day's work, and while Merlin only drank one flagon of ale, Gwaine was a seasoned drinker. He may have been a little touchy-feely with the barmaid, but it was either her or Merlin, and Merlin was a taken man.

Well, taken-but-not-taken.

"You know, you should just tell him," Gwaine said. He'd invited Merlin into his chambers and was now sprawled on the bed while Merlin sat at his table.

"Tell who what?" Merlin asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Arthur. Tell Arthur you're madly in love with him and want to fuck his brains out. Or have him fuck yours out. Or both. I don't know how you see this relationship, but I think I just covered all bases there."

As his little revelation met stony silence, Gwaine lifted his head to see Merlin's wide eyed look.

"You know?" he asked, voice barely over a whisper.

"Of course I know. We all know! It's not like it's a massive secret," Gwaine muttered, turning over on the bed.

One brilliant thing about living as a noble was the beds. They were just so damned comfortable.

"What do you mean 'we all know'?" Merlin sounded slightly panicked now. Gwaine wondered if the alcohol had been a good idea after all. "Who knows?"

"Well me… Lancelot of course… then you have Leon and his freaky plans, Elyan and Percival. I think Gwen knows too, and probably Gaius as you live with him." Gwaine thought it was obvious that they all knew.

"And… Arthur?"

"Arthur? He's as blind as you are. Of course he doesn't know, but then you don't know how he feels about you do you? You two are mad, completely bonkers." Gwaine shuffled into the pillows. They were like clouds.

"Gwaine? No you can't fall asleep on me! What the hell do you mean 'how Arthur feels about me'? You can't leave me hanging!"

Gwaine felt someone shaking him, but he waved them off, burrowing into his bed. He was tired, his foot was starting to hurt and he'd probably regret what he'd said to Merlin in the morning.

Still, someone needed to give him a starting push. That's all Gwaine had done, when you thought about it. Some may call it meddling, but it really wasn't.

Gwaine hated meddlers after all, and he was the furthest thing from a matchmaking-Knight, no matter what Leon said on the subject.

 **The Tale of King Uther: The Tenth Day.**

Gaius had been called to the lower town when the council had let out, and Gaius had left instructions to Merlin should this happen and Uther call for him. The tincture Gaius had prescribed to help Uther heal was to be taken daily and it was Merlin's task to deliver it (freshly made that morning, due to the nature of the ingredients) should Gaius be absent.

The servant came and Merlin's heart thundered in his chest. He hadn't seen Uther but for a few far-away glances around the castle. He'd looked pale, a shadow of the man who had condemned so many with a level head. He hardly looked like the Uther Merlin knew, and while it was odd to admit it, it unsettled Merlin.

Uther was waiting in his rooms, standing by the window. He was looking over the courtyard, the screams of dying villagers in his head as he remembered watching Morgana order their death. Over and over again he had asked himself, how could she have done it?, but he knew the answer. It was his fault, his mistake.

"My lord?" Merlin asked softly, not wanting to intrude on Uther's thoughts. "I have your medicine, Gaius was called away."

Uther turned to look at Merlin. He wasn't much to look at, too skinny and long-legged, and he supposedly suffered from a grave mental affliction.

But Uther wasn't stupid. Even if Merlin did have some mental condition, he showed outstanding loyalty to his son. He didn't know much about Merlin, except for the fact he stood by Arthur through thick and thin, and was prepared to do anything for Arthur.

Uther took the bottle, swallowing the vile taste and closing his eyes as it hit his stomach. Merlin hovered anxiously, but Uther didn't dismiss him. Instead, he waved a hand to the nearby table, gesturing for Merlin to stay.

He ignored the horrified look on the manservant's face and hid the tiny smile that sprung up at the disobedience. He admired such courage and the lack of courtly manners reminded him oddly of Ygraine.

"Everyone thinks I've gone crazy," Uther said. He was still standing, back turned to Merlin. "I suppose they're right in a way, but if I suggested we hold a parade with decorations all in pink, I suppose they'd all jump at the order."

He could hear Merlin shifting uncomfortably. Arthur trusted this man, so much to risk his life time and time again, and it felt… good, in a way to tell someone what he couldn't tell anyone else.

"I know they cannot respect me as they used to," Uther said softly, turning to look at Merlin. He noticed the way the boy schooled his face into one of blankness and looked away. "But I still have my mind here. It may not be as it was…"

Uther cut himself short. "I don't know why I'm telling you this," he admitted, looking over at Merlin. His eyes were lowered respectfully and Uther wondered what it would take for Arthur's manservant to approach him as he did his master.

That was what Uther wanted right now. Someone to talk to on his own level, just for a moment. He hadn't felt like this since Ygraine had died, but it had been easy to pour his anger into condemning each and every magic user.

"It's a weakness," Uther said, and Merlin's eyes finally met his, full of surprise. "To show this side of myself is a weakness, but Arthur trusts you almost blindingly… and as many differences I have with my son, I trust his judgement."

Merlin nodded at that and Uther was satisfied. The boy understood that he was asking for his confidence, that none of what happened in the room left. Uther just needed someone to listen, but he couldn't share these thoughts with Gaius. Gaius had sacrificed so much for Uther that he couldn't burden his friend with this.

And he needed to see what Arthur saw in Merlin. Just this once, to get a proper look at the man who had saved his son over and over again, without being a King, just a father.

"Ygraine was the only one who saw this side of me," Uther continued. Merlin's gaze never wavered, still looking into Uther's eyes.

Over a week ago, that would have annoyed him beyond belief. Back then he would have ordered punishment on this commoner, for who was he to look a King in the eye directly?

But now… Uther wasn't the King, not really. Arthur had saved them all and, while he may not be by name, he was King now. Uther wouldn't hand the Kingdom over just yet, but he was only a form on a throne. He held no power anymore, having given it willingly to his son.

"She…" Merlin began hesitantly, biting his lip as if to warn himself to stop. Uther saw that it didn't work and the question burst out. "She was Arthur's mother?"

Uther nodded. He remembered the time Arthur had him at the point of sword, and how it had been Merlin to calm his son. Merlin had lied for Uther, against Arthur, for no reason other than to stop Arthur making a mistake. Uther knew Merlin hadn't done it for his sake, and strangely it had relieved him.

"She was." Uther paused, unsure whether or not he should say the next words. "You remind me a little of her," he said.

Merlin shook his head, "Sire, I'm sure-"

"She was kind and fair, the kind of person who made you want to follow, even if you didn't know why. I trusted her as Arthur trusts you." There. He'd said it.

Merlin's mouth opened and closed a few times, his head still shaking.

"Ygraine died because of my mistakes. I don't regret what she died for, but I regret that I placed my trust in someone else."

Merlin's head stilled and his eyes met Uther's again. While he knew the truth behind Arthur's birth, Uther needed to tell his side.

"I trusted a sorceress, Nimueh. She came to us as a friend, told us she could help. Ygraine became pregnant and though we knew it would cost another their life…" Uther stopped, closing his eyes briefly. Why was he talking about this to Merlin of all people?

It didn't make sense.

"I thought we were invincible. I thought Ygraine would always be by my side, us and our child." Uther needed Merlin to understand. "Never assume, never."

If Merlin assumed he and Arthur were like Ygraine and Uther, tragedy could only repeat itself. If he fooled himself, pulled the cotton over his eyes, Camelot would crumble and all of Arthur's hopes would fall with it.

"Nimueh told Arthur she wasn't to die by his hand, but I do not trust her word. If…" Uther took in a deep breath, confessing his deepest fears to the one person he knew would understand them. "If she should come for him, promise me you'll find a way to stop her, no matter the cost."

Merlin blinked at that, his gaze shifting slightly. Uther narrowed his eyes, catching the shift, and his eyes widened.

"I promise," Merlin said without hesitation, swearing his oath without breaking eye contact.

Uther could feel the power in the words, the feel of magic swirling around him. He hadn't felt magic this strong, this pure, since Nimueh had breathed life for their son. Even so, if he'd never known magic so powerful, Uther could feel it now, tingling against his skin.

It wasn't a promise. Not with this much emotion behind the words. Uther's blood chilled as he realised it was more of a confession and that Merlin couldn't promise him he'd protect Arthur from Nimueh because he already had.

Uther thought of all the times Merlin had showed his loyalty, all the times Merlin had shouldered blame for someone else. By all means, Uther should be ordering his execution, if he was able to stand here and say with such conviction that he'd taken care of Nimueh.

Nimueh – the one sorceress who had evaded everything Uther had done. The one woman who had taken so much and continued to drain him… tried even to take more.

Merlin had stopped her, saved Arthur (again), saved them all…

He nodded. Nothing was said, it didn't need to be. If they spoke the words aloud, then Uther had to do something about it. As it was now, Merlin could stay by Arthur's side and Uther knew his son was safe. With Merlin by his side, Uther could see the greatness Arthur would achieve and the weight of worry slid from his shoulders with ease.

"Thank you," he said with meaning.

Merlin bowed his head, dropping his eyes and standing.

And just like that, Uther was a King again and Merlin just a manservant.

 **The Tale of Sir Elyan (iv): The Tenth Night.**

Elyan hadn't spent too much time in Arthur's company, so when the Prince asked for him one evening, he was a little apprehensive.

It turned to confusion when Arthur handed him a bunch of flowers.

"Sire?" he asked in confusion, looking behind Arthur to Merlin. Merlin looked up from cleaning Arthur's armour to smile and shrug his shoulders.

"For Guinevere. As a thank you," Arthur said, clapping Elyan on the shoulder. "Merlin said she liked purple flowers so…"

Elyan looked to Merlin and nodded to both of them. He took the flowers and left, shaking his head. Why had he thought moving to Camelot would be simple and easy? The people here were clearly mad.

"What are you doing here?"

Elyan turned at the familiar voice and pushed the flowers towards Gwen. "Arthur wanted you to have these, as a thank you he said."

Gwen raised an eyebrow, taking the flowers. They walked back through the castle together, moving into the darkness of the lower town.

"So… why was he thanking you?" Gwen gave him a sharp look.

"It's not my place to say," was all she said, but Elyan grinned instead.

"It doesn't have anything to do with Merlin does it?"

Gwen avoided all eye contact and Elyan knew he'd guessed correctly.

"Maybe. But even so, it's not as if they've done anything about it is it?" Gwen said, sighing slightly.

They'd reached their home by now and they entered, lighting more candles and moving to see what they could eat.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Elyan muttered as he looked for some bread. "Gwaine let slip to Merlin last night that we all know about how he feels, and he thinks he mentioned that Arthur feels for Merlin too."

Without turning around, Elyan imagined the look of disapproval on Gwen's face.

"I suppose he only thinks he mentioned it because he was out drinking?"

Elyan shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. We all worked hard, sleep comes on quick, you know."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Right," she said. "As long as you don't fall into bad habits either," she continued, moving over to his side and finding the bread in a second.

"Was Merlin there when you visited them?" Gwen asked, cutting a chunk of cheese and laying it on the table.

Elyan bobbed his head, "But they didn't seem any different. He was just cleaning Arthur's armour…"

Gwen reacted differently. Apparently it was a good thing as she smiled. "Arthur usually sends him away to clean his armour, but if Merlin was in there doing it…" she trailed off, a slice of break hovering by her mouth.

"Now I think you're just looking for things. So what if he was cleaning armour in a different place? He still hasn't given Arthur the horseshoe."

Around the mouthful of bread, Gwen questioned him on the horseshoe business.

"Merlin wanted to give Arthur a horseshoe before he was fired. As a good luck token, but he still hasn't given it to him." Elyan wondered if he was just looking into things too deeply before Gwen spoke.

"Which means they're not completely back to normal then," Elyan nodded, thankful someone else thought along the same lines as he. It was just a horseshoe, really, and yet it was much more.

"There's nothing we can do though," Gwen said, breaking into Elyan's thoughts. "We just have to let them deal with it on their own. I've told Arthur to tell Merlin, and Merlin to tell Arthur but… well it's like telling a fish to stop swimming. It's not going to do it unless it decides itself."

Elyan nodded. Gwen was right; there really was nothing they could do.

He reached for a bit of cheese, only for his fingers to close around empty air. Gwen was smiling with her stolen cheese in hand.

"Your reaction times are slow," she teased.

Despite her times of wisdom, Gwen was still his little sister. And it was well within his rights to challenge her to a duel by pillow if he so wished.

 **The Tale of Sir Lancelot (iv): The Eleventh Day.**

Lancelot didn't miss the scan of the training grounds Arthur made before he clapped him on the shoulder, drawing him away from the others. Still, he followed his Prince without questioning, curious as to why he'd be chosen to follow.

"How are you?" was all he asked and Lancelot was a little confused as to why they needed to be alone for this.

"Well, Sire… and yourself?" Maybe Arthur wanted to confess something?

"Good, I'm good. I was just wondering when you're going to show Gwen how much you love her."

Lancelot looked at Arthur sharply, wondering if this was dig. Looking at his friend, though, he could see that the words held no spite. There was a secretive smile on Arthur's face and Lancelot licked his lips slightly, preparing to reply.

"I didn't want to be inconsiderate," he began, but Arthur shook his head.

"You're the least inconsiderate person I know," he said. "And while I'm sure Gwen will be happy to wait for you forever, get a move on would you? The rest of us hate seeing the looks you two share at dinner. Puts a man off his food!"

Lancelot laughed, nodding.

"We could say the same thing of you Sire," he replied. For an awful moment, Lancelot was sure he'd overstepped the boundary between them, as Arthur clenched his jaw, but the moment passed and Arthur – shockingly – nodded.

"Which is why I needed to talk to you. When… when Merlin said he was with you last week…"

Arthur sounded unsure, as if he were treading on eggshells. Lancelot couldn't blame the man and he wanted to tell the truth. Except he didn't know the full truth did he? He didn't know what Merlin had been doing when he'd lied for him, except it had something to do with the mysterious sword.

And why had Arthur come to him instead of Merlin?

"I can't ask Merlin," Arthur said. "There are things that he won't tell me, but I have to know this at least."

Lancelot had sworn allegiance to Arthur, but he'd also sworn himself to Merlin, in private. To tell Arthur what he wanted could do one of two things; harm Merlin, or help him.

"Merlin was with me the second time. He wanted to find something and needed my help," Lancelot said, hoping the answer would be enough.

He knew it wasn't.

"And the first time?" Arthur's voice was strained and Lancelot knew he couldn't lie. He wouldn't betray Merlin, but keeping this from Arthur wouldn't do any good.

"I chose to lie for him. He had this sword, one that he had to get rid of." Lancelot supposed that much was true. Merlin hadn't returned with the sword after all.

"A sword? You lied for him over a sword?" Arthur's expression was pinched in disbelief. "Why on earth would he have to get rid of a sword and lie to me over it?"

"That sword," Lancelot said, unable to stop himself this time. He'd kept quiet too many times for Merlin; Arthur had to know what he'd done just this once. "That sword is the reason we're standing here now. It's the only weapon that can kill the dead, and it's thanks to Merlin that the immortal army were defeated."

Surprise was clear on Arthur's face, as well as the shadow of betrayal.

"But you two were… the warning bell…"

Lancelot nodded. "Merlin asked me if I could get him near the Cup of Life. He needed an excuse to be away from you."

There. That was as close to the truth as Lancelot would allow himself. Anymore and he would betray Merlin, but Arthur needed to know. Lancelot had wondered how Merlin would know when it was time to tell Arthur, and it felt right now to tell this much to the Prince.

"Merlin did that?" Arthur's voice was hollow.

"He did. Gaius and I helped him, but we owe a great debt to him," Lancelot said. While he feared what Arthur's reaction would be, he needed to tell him. Arthur needed to know about the man he loved, even if Lancelot could only reveal so much.

"But… he hasn't said anything."

Lancelot realised that, for Arthur, such an action didn't make sense unless the person sought a reward. Even though the Prince had learnt that people did things of their own free will, something like oh, saving the whole of Camelot couldn't go unchecked.

"No," Lancelot agreed. "That's not the kind of man Merlin is."

Arthur shook his head softly, eyes still wide. "I thought I knew him."

Unease crawled into Lancelot's belly and he held his breath.

"I thought I knew him, but then I find out he's a much better man than I thought…" Lancelot let the breath out in a small stream. His choice had been the right one, he knew that now.

"I need to talk to him," Arthur said, to himself. "I need to know everything," he said as he walked off.

Lancelot watched and knew he should warn Merlin. His feet remained rooted to the ground though and he considered this.

He'd never been one to believe in signs, but telling Arthur had felt right and warning Merlin felt wrong. He couldn't explain why, it just did. The day was drawing to a close and Lancelot knew exactly where Gwen would be right now.

With a smile, he decided to ask if she wanted him to accompany her home.

(Her answer was, of course, yes, and she invited Lancelot in for dinner, seeing as Elyan was on duty that night. Lancelot left with a smile and wondered why he'd spent so long waiting for this moment.)

 **The Tale of Sir Percival (iv): The Eleventh Night.**

"… and so, there we were, standing by the wall-" Merlin said hurriedly, leaning forwards over the table.

"And then the idea just kind of popped into our heads at the same time," Gwaine continued, looking over at Merlin.

"So we've got these creepy, massive guys coming at us from all angles, and there's only one thing we can do, really." Merlin looked at Gwaine, nudging him with an arm.

"And that is to jump, hoping that we won't break a leg." Gwaine shook his head, grinning as they relayed their tale to Percival.

"Then we nicked a couple of their horses and headed off to save the noble Prince Arthur!"

Percival smiled, enjoying yet another tale of the Gwaine and Merlin chronicles. It was interesting to see how much fun the pair could have while running for their lives, and the jumping was quite inventive really.

"Thanks," Merlin said as Percival commented on it.

It was at this moment that Percival noticed Arthur in the hall. No one had commented on his missing seat at the table as they all knew he had been strained recently, and while Merlin had been determinedly looking anywhere but at the high table, there was no real reason for him to be, unless they'd had a falling out, again?

Except here was Arthur now, expression dark as he moved through the lingering nobles and servants. While it was a formal meal, people mingled around to talk to each other, enjoying the freedom Uther and Arthur's Camelot provided.

Next to him, Gwaine quietened. Percival suspected he too had seen Arthur, but Merlin, on the other side of the table, was none the wiser.

"Merlin," came the low voice of Arthur as he stood behind his manservant. Merlin froze for a second before he turned, smiling.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be done till later, or else I would have been waiting for you." Merlin cocked his head slightly, apparently noticing the dark look on Arthur's face.

"What's wrong with you?" slipped from his lips, and even Percival could tell that was the wrong thing to say to Arthur in this mood.

"I need to talk to you," Arthur bit out, stepping back from the table a little.

"Now?" Merlin asked, looking at his plate of unfinished food. "I'm halfway through dinner, can't I come up after-"

"It's about the sword," Arthur said and Percival watched as Merlin paled.

"Right," he said quietly, looking at the food and then at Percival and Gwaine, forcing a smile. "Duty calls," he muttered quickly, rising from the table and scuttling after Arthur.

"What was that about?" Gwaine asked and Percival shook his head.

"At least I'm not the only one who's confused," he said, looking at Gwaine.

"Do you think we should see if Merlin's okay?" Gwaine said uncertainly. "Arthur looked…"

Percival nodded. "If he can't be found anywhere tomorrow then I think we should raise the alarm. Arthur wouldn't do anything stupid."

Gwaine muttered something offensive to that and Percival smiled. It was still a little worried; he hadn't seen such a dark look on Arthur's face, not even during their battle upon Morgana's Camelot.

And as much as he believed Merlin could hold his own, once you grew to know the man, it was hard not to want to protect him.

 **The Tale of Prince Arthur.**

Between Lancelot's confession (could it be called that? It was what Arthur had labelled it in his mind) and seeing Merlin's face in the hall, he had had time to think over what was said.

Somehow, Merlin – of all people – had acquired a sword that could slay the dead and been the sole reason they won over Morgana.

It made sense in the way that the army had suddenly vanished, as had Morgana, but it didn't make an inch of sense in the fact that, well, it was Merlin. Merlin who washed his clothes and polished his armour… who complained about mucking out the stable and did it anyway, even when there were stable hands to do that, because Arthur asked.

The Merlin he had come to love, and yet it seemed he hardly knew him.

There was no lie when he'd mentioned the sword at the table, that much was clear in Merlin's face. And yes, Arthur had seen the worried looks Gwaine and Percival had shot their way. He wasn't going to hurt Merlin for pity's sake, but he needed to know the truth.

At least Merlin hadn't lied this time, hadn't tried to laugh it off and say 'What sword?' or ask if it was about the sharpening he'd done earlier that day. Merlin at least had sense to deal with an angered Arthur properly and tell the truth.

Arthur took Merlin back to his room and shut the door, using the bolt for a rare occasion. He didn't want to be interrupted during this or give Merlin the opportunity to escape. They both needed this.

"I asked Lancelot why he lied for you. He told me that the second time you were telling the truth." Arthur paused. He didn't want to outright attack Merlin, but he needed the truth. Too many lies had surrounded his life and he couldn't take any more.

"He told me what you did," was all he could manage, and even then he couldn't look Merlin in the eye.

Silence stretched between them until Arthur almost couldn't bear it anymore. He was about to turn to face Merlin when he spoke.

"Excalibur is the only weapon that can slay the dead," Merlin began, softly as if beginning a story. In a way, Arthur supposed that he was.

"I took the best sword Gwen's father had made and asked the great dragon to bathe it in fire." Merlin's voice lacked any emotion. Arthur wanted to ask how he'd managed to get the dragon to bow to his command, but he couldn't find his voice to interrupt.

"It was supposed to be for you, when you took up Sir Tristan's challenge. I didn't know they were going to drug you." Arthur heard Merlin's sigh. "Your father used Excalibur, even though Kilgharrah told me it was only supposed to be wielded by your hand."

Arthur had no idea who Kilgharrah was, but Merlin was talking again before he could question him.

"I took Excalibur to a lake and cast the sword away. I never planned on seeing the sword again unless it was in your hand, but then… someone told me I had to take the sword up. I had to use Excalibur against Morgana's army." Merlin's voice dipped unhappily and Arthur knew there was so much more to this than he was letting on.

"I was told to look after the Cup of Life and I failed. I had to stop her and the only weapon I could use was yours." Merlin paused again, taking a deep breath in.

Arthur wondered how far away he was from breaking down. He didn't feel as if it would be long before he broke down and he wasn't the one saying all of this.

"I asked Lancelot to help me and managed to get to the cup. I think… I think Gaius and I killed Morgause, but we got to the cup and I emptied it of the blood." Merlin was rushing through his story now and as much as Arthur wanted to ask him to slow down (and explain why Gaius was there, and how you don't know if you've killed someone), he couldn't.

"And then Morgana was there… and she was screaming and…" Merlin stopped. "I wanted to help her, but I had to get Gaius and Lancelot out. I had to check if you were alright, I had to…"

Merlin stopped, taking a juddering breath in.

So that was the story. A story of how Merlin had used a sword of dragon's breath to defeat an immortal army, and how he had asked Lancelot to help him.

"I had to put the sword somewhere no one but you would ever be able to wield it. That was what I was doing that night," Merlin said, but Arthur didn't care anymore.

"Why Lancelot?" He didn't care if his voice was bitter. Why had Merlin chosen Lancelot over him?

"Sorry?" Merlin asked, confusion clear in his tone.

"Why did you ask Lancelot to go with you? Why didn't you ask me?" And if Arthur's voice broke slightly at his second question, he no longer cared.

Merlin didn't answer. Arthur waited, and waited, but Merlin still didn't answer.

He turned around, expecting to see Merlin with his head down, turned away or with his arms crossed. Looking as he did when he was defying Arthur's orders yet again, with that look that only Merlin could pull off.

Instead, he met Merlin's eyes, clear and flickering with light. He looked down into Merlin's cupped hands and saw a small Pendragon crest, burning with fire. The dragon uncoiled itself, lengthening and twisting around Merlin's hands as the distance between them closed.

Arthur was frozen to the spot as Merlin approached him, holding the little flame-dragon in one hand and reaching for Arthur's hand with the other.

When Arthur flinched, Merlin simply whispered, "Trust me."

And he did, letting Merlin manoeuvre the dragon onto his own palm, the warmth of the little fire creation spreading through his body. The dragon curled up on Arthur's palm, as if sleeping, before it began to fade.

Arthur wanted it to stay, and the warmth in his body faded as Merlin's magic did. He wanted to ask Merlin to bring the dragon back, to show him what else he could do, but his voice was swallowed and too far down to recover.

"I wanted to tell you so many times," Merlin was whispering, hovering just by Arthur's ear. "I'm sorry," he continued and Arthur wanted to tell him he was an idiot, to shout at him, to send him to the prison, to hug him… too many things that conflicted each other.

"I'll go now," Merlin said sadly, stepping away. Arthur wanted to reach out, tell Merlin that he loved him… but the distance only got longer and longer, and before he quite realised, Merlin was gone.

Arthur stood still in his rooms, barely thinking anything other than he now knew everything of Merlin. There were reactions that he should have displayed, and would have were he around anyone else.

But there hadn't been anyone else. All there had been in this room was Arthur, Merlin, and Merlin confessing his secrets.

And the worst part? Merlin had left before Arthur had recovered his voice. And by the time Arthur was ready to tell Merlin that he still loved him, even with the weight of magic (they could think about that another day), Merlin was long gone and the embers in his fire were half-heartedly lingering, watching their Prince with stunted disappointment.

 **The Tale of Sir Leon (iv): The Twelfth Day.**

Leon spent the morning looking for Arthur. Merlin had come to him on the training grounds and asked if Leon would go and check on Arthur, not explaining why, and Leon had agreed. He'd set off for Arthur's chambers then suspecting that the Prince was taking a rare opportunity to lie in bed for a little longer, only to find them empty and devoid of any signs of life. Even the fire had burnt itself out, which showed he hadn't been there for a while.

He'd then looked around the main areas of the castle, the council rooms (empty), the dining hall (devoid of Arthur, but still bustling), the armoury (he'd be having words with a few servants so that they'd organise that particular room), and even tried the stables, where he'd simply received haughty looks from Arthur's horses.

It had taken a further hour until Leon had located Arthur, tucked away in a corner up on the roof. He was looking over the battlements, down at the market place with shadowed eyes.

"Sire?" Leon questioned gently. "Merlin wanted me to check on you, is everything okay?"

Arthur smiled as soon as Leon mentioned Merlin's name and nodded, turning to the Knight.

"It is, strangely it is."

Leon frowned at the relief in Arthur's voice, wondering what had made him act like this. He wore an odd smile, and his shoulders were lifted slightly. Had he told Merlin how he felt? Had Merlin told him how he felt?

"Sire?" Leon questioned instead, hoping Arthur would fill in the blanks.

"You think you know someone," Arthur began, looking back over Camelot, the small, silly smile on his face. "And then they turn around and do something that completely surprised you. You should be angry, you should do a million things and none of them good… but what does it mean if the only thing you can think of is how much you want to tell them that you love them?"

Arthur shook his head, the smile dropping as he looked at Leon. "Does that make me a madman?"

Leon felt himself under Arthur's scrutiny and dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn't know what had happened since he'd last seen Arthur yesterday, but whatever it was, it was big.

"A madman if you're in love? That you'll accept that person with all their faults and still love them? I don't think that makes you a madman at all," Leon said and he looked at Arthur.

"It's strange how things change in such little time," Arthur said, changing topic. Leon could only watch as Arthur shifted through conversations, hoping to grasp onto the ends and come to the same conclusion as his Prince.

"If you told me two weeks ago that I'd realise I'm hopelessly in love with my manservant, I would have laughed. I suppose immortal armies bring out the best in us all."

There was no chuckle to accompany the words and Leon knew them to be sincere. Whatever Arthur was saying, it was something he needed to say.

"And the worst part of it all," he continued, "Is that I wanted to say it. It was there; ready to come out, but… I couldn't."

Leon nodded, not saying anything as he didn't want to break the trail of thought Arthur had gripped loosely. He wasn't sure that Arthur knew he was still there, but he waited, patiently, for his Prince to finish.

"I think I can say it now though. I know I can say it now," he corrected, and the little grin was back.

"Thank you," he said, clasping Leon's arm as he passed. "I'll meet you back at the training field," Arthur said, and then he was gone.

Leon was left on the roof of Camelot's castle, wondering exactly what had just happened. He looked down before looking to the door and shaking his head. Maybe Arthur had turned into a madman, but after all they'd been through, he deserved happiness.

And it seemed that being a madman in love suited Arthur's happiness.

Leon left the battlements then, his cloak sweeping behind him as he moved down the stairs. He felt it in his bones, in his blood, with certainty. Arthur was going to tell Merlin tonight, and it brought a smile to his face. He didn't know how he knew, or why he was so certain it was tonight, but he was happy for them.

Leon entered the training grounds to see Arthur watching a fight, correcting the knights' positions gently, with a calm Leon hadn't seen for weeks. Whatever had happened between them last night, it had helped Arthur regain control of himself, regain the peace that made him more than just a good warrior.

He was more than just a Prince now, but padded with human flesh and a human heart. Merlin had caused this, most likely without realising it.

He hadn't really acknowledged how great a man Merlin was before now, but it had to be said; Merlin deserved his happiness more than any other man Leon knew.

 **The Tale of Sir Gwaine (iv): The Twelfth Night.**

Gwaine waited for Merlin to stop pacing before he threw an apple at him. Merlin frowned in his direction, setting the apple on the table and returning to pacing around Gaius' workroom.

"Oh would you just sit down? Your pacing's driving me up the wall," Gwaine complained, receiving a jerky shake of the head in return.

"Come on then," he said, leaning his elbows on the table. "Out with it; what's eating you?"

Merlin looked at him with round eyes.

"Nothing," he said quickly, far too quickly for there to actually be nothing bothering him.

"Liar," Gwaine hissed, grabbing for the apple Merlin had discarded and biting into it. He looked at Merlin, staring at him, until Merlin looked back.

"So, go on then," Gwaine said, chewing on the mouthful of fruit.

"I told you, nothing's wrong." Merlin looked away and Gwaine nodded.

"Ah, of course. So, if this nothing had a name, would it begin with an 'A' and end with an 'R'?" He smiled as Merlin turned, a glare shooting in his direction.

"Fine," Merlin nodded a moment later. "So what if it is something to do with Arthur? Isn't it always? It's either about saving him, or running after him, or doing his bidding, or cleaning up his messes. Or it's about lying to him, or following him as he saves the world, or being completely fixed on him that I can't think straight for the rest of the day." Merlin took a deep breath in.

"Do you know when I first realised I loved him?" Gwaine shook his head, silent for once. "He was sitting at his table, as he does every day. Sunlight shone in the window and it hit me. Sunlight. That was it."

Merlin gave a strangled laugh. "I realised I loved Arthur when sunlight shone through his window. It ridiculous, doesn't even make sense!"

Merlin closed his eyes and stood in the centre of the room, hands by his side.

"Sure it doesn't," Gwaine said, and Merlin's eyes snapped open. "But what about love does?"

Merlin was silent then, the air around him calming. Gwaine offered him the half-eaten apple and he took it, biting into the flesh slowly.

"I suppose that makes sense," Merlin said with a smile, nodding to Gwaine.

"I have to go," Merlin said and Gwaine only just hid his smile.

"Of course you do," he said, meeting Merlin's eyes with a fully-fledged smile. "Good luck," he whispered as Merlin fled the room.

There was nothing left to do but inform the others now and argue over who exactly had the privilege of escaping the drink's pay.

(It ended up that none of them won, really, and they ended up the last people in the tavern, creating stories of what Arthur and Merlin were up to at the moment, until the tavern owner grew sick of the sudden bursts of laughter and whispers and threw them out, Knights of Camelot or not.)

 **The Tale of Merlin (ii).**

Ignoring the looks he got, Merlin ran through the castle until he was standing outside of Arthur's door. It had seemed so easy before he had actually reached Arthur's door, and he'd imagine barging in, shouting that he loved Arthur, or even knocking before throwing himself in Arthur's arms… or maybe just slipping in and then turning around suddenly, proclaiming his love.

Except it was far easier to imagine these scenarios than it was to carry them out, and Merlin remained with a door separating them, staring at the wood.

"Merlin?"

Merlin jumped, moving away from the door and spinning around to face the person who had called his name. His eyes widened as he saw Arthur, an arm's length away, and he took a step back.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be; why wasn't Arthur hidden away in his chambers? It was supposed to be up to Merlin to decide, up to Merlin to keep things in his control.

He was an idiot. Why did he think that Arthur would forgive him for the magic? Why had he come here after what he'd done the night before? Just because Uther hadn't sent him away for execution after silently realising didn't mean Arthur wouldn't.

But Merlin hadn't been carried off, had he? No guards had come looking for him all day, and Arthur hadn't come with his sword to kill Merlin. His head wasn't on the executioner's block, not was his pyre being built.

But why?

"Are you okay?"

Arthur was – Merlin almost shuddered at the thought – looking concerned. He opened his door, stepping over the threshold and looking back at Merlin.

"Do you want to come in?"

The question was hesitant, but Merlin nodded, slowly following Arthur in.

It looked exactly like it did yesterday, and the day before that. It looked the same as it had a few days ago, with maybe a few exceptions. Different clothes on the floor, different plates on the table perhaps. It was the same room, nothing had changed.

Merlin didn't know why he'd expected it to change, but for some reason he had. Arthur hadn't gone into a rage, hadn't destroyed his room in a fit of anger at knowing Merlin's secret.

"Arthur, I-"

Arthur held up a hand, shaking his head. "I need to say something," he said, voice low.

This is it, Merlin thought. Why had it been a good idea to come here? Did Arthur really need to know he was in love with him?

Yes.

Was it worth the price of his death? Or rather, could Merlin die without telling Arthur how he really felt?

No. He couldn't.

"After you- you showed me what you could do, I wanted to say something." Arthur was talking now and Merlin looked at him, waiting for the moment he'd call in his guards. "I've never felt anything like that."

Merlin frowned.

"Not that I really know much about magic it seems," Arthur continued, pointedly avoiding looking at Merlin. "But…" Arthur paused and Merlin saw his jaw clench as he struggled for his next words.

"I should have done what I've been told to from birth, lock you up and tell my father. I should order you to bow to me, to confess the evil you've done." Merlin felt as if something had stabbed him in the stomach and he began to shake his head, denial springing to his lips. He'd never done anything to hurt Arthur, was only there to protect him.

"And all I could think, as you were leaving, was how much I love you."

The last words were twisted a little, forced out before Arthur's throat closed them off completely. They struggled out, pinning Merlin where he stood.

Arthur loved him? Even knowing about his magic, Arthur still loved him? He wasn't scared or disgusted, wasn't pushing him down to the cells or avoiding him, but opening his arms and telling Merlin he loved him?

For a moment, Merlin forgot how to breathe. Inside of him he could feel the flutter of his magic, alive and singing at the thought of Arthur loving him back, and he managed a fleeting smiled before he was forced to breathe again.

Arthur stood stock-still in the room, watching Merlin with guarded eyes. Merlin met his gaze equally, smiling as he reached Arthur, until he was a step away from touching him.

"I came here thinking I could burst in and shout it out, or that I'd spring it up on you randomly." A glint of hope crept into Arthur's eyes and Merlin nodded a little, his smile growing and growing.

"I don't think there is a right way," he said, "Only that the best way to do it is just to say it."

Arthur reached a hand out, fingers slipping over Merlin's neck as Merlin moved forward a little, until his mouth was pressed to Arthur's cheek, by his ear.

"I love you," he whispered, before Arthur twisted his grip and kissed him awkwardly, pressed too far to one side of his mouth. Merlin shifted, wrapping one of his arms over Arthur's shoulders and smiled.

Arthur broke away lazily, meeting Merlin's gaze with softened eyes.

"Stay the night?" Arthur asked and Merlin nodded, lying beside Arthur, limbs tangled as if they'd never slept any other way.

The morning came and Merlin had vanished by the time Arthur woke, to the sound of knocking. He moved to the door with a frown, annoyed that Merlin had gone and then further annoyed by whoever was outside the door.

He opened it and Merlin fell onto him, innocent look instantly plastered on his face as Arthur pushed him back so he was standing upright once more.

"What are you doing?" he asked, noticing the hammer Merlin held.

With a smile, Merlin nodded to the door. "Lancelot's horse threw its shoe. Elyan told me it was a good luck charm and I figured that it wouldn't hurt to put it on your door."

Arthur looked at the horseshoe, nailed to his chambers door as if it had been there for years.

"We all know you're the one who needs all the good luck he can get," Merlin said with a smile, closing the door behind himself as he entered.

It took one step to press Merlin against his door and Arthur took advantage of the fact he trained religiously to kiss his manservant senseless, regardless of whether said manservant really didn't mind the man handling.

There was a lot to sort out, between his added responsibilities and rebuilding Camelot, dealing with what Morgana had left from her rule and what was to come in the future. But as Merlin let his magic dance along Arthur's skin, he knew anything was possible.


End file.
